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 Guinea-Bissau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joe Finger to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
DNA,
Charles Mingus,
Shoche,
Kas Product,
Barbara Tucker,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Vladislav Delay,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moleskins,
Faust,
Duran Duran,
Bill Near,
Marine Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dead C,
Godley & Creme,
Gong,
Aural Exciters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
New York Dolls,
The Busters,
Chris Corsano,
Morten Harket,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
La Düsseldorf,
Marmalade,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scott Walker,
Goldenarms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Invisible,
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
World's Most,
The Star Department,
The Mojo Men,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ossler,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.