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 St Lucia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Donald Byrd,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash,
F. McDonald,
K-Klass,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan,
AZ,
10cc,
Nick Fraelich,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
Jeff Mills,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Barracudas,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Matthew Bourne,
Deepchord,
Erykah Badu,
Silicon Teens,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
The Cramps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ken Boothe,
The Offenders,
Prince Buster,
The Smiths,
Radiohead,
The Star Department,
DJ Sneak,
The Trojans,
The Raincoats,
Dorothy Ashby,
Darondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Godley & Creme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.