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 Belarus and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Durutti Column to the disco 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
Rakim,
Byron Stingily,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mad Mike,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Machine,
Henry Cow,
The Red Krayola,
B.T. Express,
F. McDonald,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Near,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eurythmics,
Todd Terry,
Clear Light,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jawbox,
The Smiths,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Seeds,
The Fall,
Sam Rivers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
Fear,
Underground Resistance,
Oblivians,
China Crisis,
The Star Department,
Quantec,
Audionom,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
The Dead C,
Camouflage,
Colin Newman,
Icehouse,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Misunderstood,
Porter Ricks,
E-Dancer,
Gabor Szabo,
The United States of America,
Cheater Slicks,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.