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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 John Foxx to the jazz 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike 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?
The Human League,
Royal Trux,
Roy Ayers,
Sonny Sharrock,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
Desert Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Ponytail,
Black Flag,
Bluetip,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Alice Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Mandrill,
Yusef Lateef,
Make Up,
Fatback Band,
Audionom,
Scrapy,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
The Pretty Things,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Livin' Joy,
Au Pairs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Music Machine,
The Toasters,
The Trojans,
Brick,
Babytalk,
Metal Thangz,
The Birthday Party,
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ohio Players,
Barbara Tucker,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suicide,
Ronan,
Wings,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs,
Bobby Womack,
Mark Hollis,
Warren Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.