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 Solomon Islands and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Livin' Joy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Andrew Hill,
Sight & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Ronnie Foster,
Leonard Cohen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Country Teasers,
Donny Hathaway,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eli Mardock,
Faust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Faraquet,
Fluxion,
Stiv Bators,
Tomorrow,
The Evens,
The Leaves,
Q and Not U,
Motorama,
Mantronix,
Neu!,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Matthew Bourne,
Boz Scaggs,
Pole,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Josef K,
The Toasters,
EPMD,
Jimmy McGriff,
The United States of America,
Blancmange,
Amazonics,
Dave Gahan,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New Order,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Techniques,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Style,
Masters at Work,
Chris & Cosey,
Silicon Teens,
Oblivians,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.