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 Yemen and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barbara Tucker to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
June Days,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Sherman,
Amazonics,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Byrd,
Urselle,
The Buckinghams,
Bluetip,
Soft Machine,
David Bowie,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blossom Toes,
D'Angelo,
Quando Quango,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DJ Style,
The Gladiators,
Public Enemy,
Moby Grape,
Grauzone,
Flash Fearless,
Black Pus,
Kayak,
Tim Buckley,
Dawn Penn,
Glenn Branca,
Dave Gahan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zapp,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
X-102,
Laurel Aitken,
Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
The Divine Comedy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Malaria!,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
Spoonie Gee,
Albert Ayler,
Brand Nubian,
Judy Mowatt,
Clear Light,
John Lydon,
Bad Manners,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Niagra,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.