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 Malta and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
Livin' Joy,
Maleditus Sound,
Trumans Water,
The Slackers,
Eve St. Jones,
B.T. Express,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Pagans,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
Pulsallama,
The Sound,
Arab on Radar,
ABC,
Lakeside,
Joe Finger,
The Toasters,
Ten City,
Skarface,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Lydon,
Japan,
Easy Going,
Don Cherry,
Minutemen,
Fela Kuti,
Buzzcocks,
Fugazi,
The Fortunes,
The Dirtbombs,
The Music Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crooked Eye,
Roger Hodgson,
Erasure,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Spoonie Gee,
Albert Ayler,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Clear Light,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Hill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Grass Roots,
DNA,
Bauhaus,
Warren Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Starr,
The Invisible,
Can,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.