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 Rwanda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Michael McDonald 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 Simply Red to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flash Fearless,
The Alarm Clocks,
Section 25,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Lydon,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scientists,
Grauzone,
The Durutti Column,
Ohio Players,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blake Baxter,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sällskapet,
Barclay James Harvest,
DNA,
The Move,
Patti Smith,
the Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Visage,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fuzztones,
Black Sheep,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Busters,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Cell,
Drexciya,
Nils Olav,
The Techniques,
Heaven 17,
Roy Ayers,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Connie Case,
ABBA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magazine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Near,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Count Five,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.