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 Tunisia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nation of Ulysses to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Fatback Band,
Sun City Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
Minnie Riperton,
Wire,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül II,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed,
Angry Samoans,
Au Pairs,
Agitation Free,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q65,
Mad Mike,
Aloha Tigers,
Brick,
Cybotron,
Subhumans,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
Jandek,
Das Ding,
Joe Finger,
Smog,
Bobby Byrd,
Brass Construction,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
Malaria!,
Alice Coltrane,
Wally Richardson,
The Moody Blues,
Blossom Toes,
The Fire Engines,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
The Dirtbombs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
H. Thieme,
The Divine Comedy,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
Barrington Levy,
Underground Resistance,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The American Breed,
Pantaleimon,
The Barracudas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter & Gordon,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.