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 Liechtenstein and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Donald Byrd to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Bush Tetras,
Albert Ayler,
Cymande,
Wally Richardson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nirvana,
Pole,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Birthday Party,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Faust,
Unwound,
The Red Krayola,
Lyres,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ice-T,
the Normal,
Clear Light,
Little Man,
New Order,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Swans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lakeside,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
The Evens,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Visage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bob Dylan,
Tres Demented,
Spandau Ballet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.