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 Lithuania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Radiohead to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Country Teasers,
Arab on Radar,
Kas Product,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
Bill Wells,
Little Man,
Can,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
Crash Course in Science,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Trojans,
Royal Trux,
L. Decosne,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
the Human League,
Tommy Roe,
Pere Ubu,
Basic Channel,
Pagans,
Make Up,
Robert Wyatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quantec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
Shoche,
Morten Harket,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Carl Craig,
Reagan Youth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New Order,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.