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 Congo and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '50s 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 Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sixth Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
Visage,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
the Swans,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Christie,
The Fall,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minutemen,
Kayak,
Symarip,
Rufus Thomas,
Q and Not U,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wally Richardson,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
the Sonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun City Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Order,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pussy Galore,
Monks,
Joy Division,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cowsills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Reagan Youth,
The Last Poets,
Basic Channel,
Stereo Dub,
Drexciya,
Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lakeside,
One Last Wish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Junior Murvin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.