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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Shuggie Otis to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Gang Green,
Alphaville,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
Jawbox,
Supertramp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sarah Menescal,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Deepchord,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Goldenarms,
Bill Near,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grey Daturas,
Nas,
Von Mondo,
John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Lydon,
Das Ding,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Wells,
Fatback Band,
Lyres,
the Soft Cell,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Byrd,
Cymande,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Al Stewart,
Gichy Dan,
Maurizio,
Reagan Youth,
Talk Talk,
Skarface,
Kas Product,
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
Boredoms,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minutemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.