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 Germany and from Tokyo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 FM Einheit to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Heaven 17,
Vainqueur,
The Skatalites,
Von Mondo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Infiniti,
Symarip,
Young Marble Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Lynne,
Joe Smooth,
Wings,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ken Boothe,
Whodini,
The Flesh Eaters,
Parry Music,
Ronan,
Cybotron,
Panda Bear,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Monks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joey Negro,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
Jerry's Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cecil Taylor,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roxette,
Lou Reed,
Howard Jones,
Mission of Burma,
Lungfish,
Dark Day,
The Durutti Column,
The Cowsills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Machine,
Chrome,
Tommy Roe,
Cal Tjader,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
The Birthday Party,
Boogie Down Productions,
DNA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Black Sheep,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül,
The Martian,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.