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 Kosovo and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the punk 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Negative Approach,
Sister Nancy,
Eric Dolphy,
The Move,
Simply Red,
Suicide,
Minny Pops,
Zero Boys,
Neil Young,
Michelle Simonal,
The Skatalites,
The Barracudas,
Yaz,
MC5,
Crispy Ambulance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Buzzcocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Juan Atkins,
Moebius,
Ronan,
Henry Cow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
MDC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Technova,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
Dawn Penn,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
The Black Dice,
Monks,
E-Dancer,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Joey Negro,
Drexciya,
The Smiths,
Erasure,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Schoolly D,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.