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 Libya and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Altered Images to the funk 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Piero Umiliani,
Popol Vuh,
Harmonia,
Pierre Henry,
The Gories,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Television,
Fatback Band,
the Germs,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Mantronix,
In Retrospect,
World's Most,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eli Mardock,
Josef K,
Juan Atkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roger Hodgson,
Letta Mbulu,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brand Nubian,
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Section 25,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.