Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nauru and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lalo Schifrin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
New Order,
Spandau Ballet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
Don Cherry,
Moby Grape,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings,
Mandrill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chrome,
Easy Going,
Television,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bronski Beat,
Babytalk,
Joensuu 1685,
A Certain Ratio,
Blancmange,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tears for Fears,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-102,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
FM Einheit,
Darondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Glenn Branca,
June Days,
Scan 7,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Associates,
Robert Görl,
Rekid,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crime,
Fela Kuti,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.