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 Jamaica and from Jakarta.
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 Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 The Associates to the punk 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Sparks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Danielle Patucci,
Lyres,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
Minny Pops,
The Litter,
The Electric Prunes,
Josef K,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grauzone,
Scion,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiohead,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Tom Boy,
The Zeros,
Flash Fearless,
Ultra Naté,
Mandrill,
Neil Young,
The Slackers,
The Gladiators,
Tubeway Army,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Derrick Morgan,
Connie Case,
New York Dolls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
The Human League,
Echospace,
PIL,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Surgeon,
Robert Wyatt,
Simply Red,
FM Einheit,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
K-Klass,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Music Machine,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aural Exciters,
Qualms,
L. Decosne,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.