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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 R.M.O. to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Ultravox,
Flamin' Groovies,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Wells,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
Little Man,
Q and Not U,
ABBA,
Massinfluence,
Japan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
Sex Pistols,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Walker Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
K-Klass,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra,
Young Marble Giants,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pantytec,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
Section 25,
Ice-T,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Robert Wyatt,
The Tremeloes,
Soul II Soul,
The Names,
Bootsy Collins,
Joyce Sims,
Flash Fearless,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yellowson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ossler,
Echospace,
Susan Cadogan,
Infiniti,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Porter Ricks,
FM Einheit,
New Age Steppers,
Public Enemy,
John Foxx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fluxion,
Black Bananas,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.