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 Cape Verde and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Popol Vuh to the grunge 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Wings,
Delta 5,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sixth Finger,
The Smiths,
Surgeon,
Boz Scaggs,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Clarke,
John Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Carl Craig,
The Victims,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ituana,
Mr. Review,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marmalade,
Todd Terry,
LL Cool J,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barry Ungar,
Flamin' Groovies,
New Order,
Kas Product,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
The Searchers,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Lou Christie,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suicide,
Derrick Morgan,
Judy Mowatt,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joy Division,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Organ,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visage,
Ice-T,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.