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 Cuba and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oblivians to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Bush Tetras,
Suicide,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Leaves,
D'Angelo,
Bronski Beat,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gladiators,
The Smoke,
Bauhaus,
Urselle,
Erasure,
Boz Scaggs,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
Steve Hackett,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Susan Cadogan,
Nik Kershaw,
Carl Craig,
Mantronix,
DNA,
Ohio Players,
In Retrospect,
Theoretical Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Camberwell Now,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Basic Channel,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxy Music,
Jacob Miller,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Slick Rick,
Sun City Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
The American Breed,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Christie,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Doors,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
Dark Day,
Fad Gadget,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.