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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin 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 Colin Newman to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Smog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
Sugar Minott,
10cc,
Quantec,
Lou Christie,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pere Ubu,
Arab on Radar,
Toni Rubio,
Bootsy Collins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Echospace,
The Fortunes,
The Pop Group,
Barrington Levy,
The Real Kids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scrapy,
Eddi Front,
Main Source,
Eden Ahbez,
Soulsonic Force,
Zero Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Guru Guru,
Dead Boys,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Foxx,
Sparks,
Anakelly,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Mills,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Prince Buster,
The Alarm Clocks,
a-ha,
Symarip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rekid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Green,
F. McDonald,
Ten City,
Lindisfarne,
B.T. Express,
Zapp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.