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 Costa Rica and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Susan Cadogan,
Mr. Review,
The Fuzztones,
R.M.O.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Shoche,
Hardrive,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mandrill,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Real Kids,
Echospace,
Zapp,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris Corsano,
ABBA,
Silicon Teens,
The Doors,
The Beau Brummels,
Spandau Ballet,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
The Fall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Zeros,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fad Gadget,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
Gabor Szabo,
Boredoms,
X-101,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shuggie Otis,
the Germs,
Motorama,
T. Rex,
Babytalk,
China Crisis,
Loose Ends,
Camberwell Now,
Frankie Knuckles,
Laurel Aitken,
Bluetip,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
Chrome,
Fela Kuti,
Joy Division,
Yellowson,
KRS-One,
Depeche Mode,
Oneida,
Jandek,
Darondo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.