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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scion to the funk 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Hoover,
Mars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The J.B.'s,
Ornette Coleman,
World's Most,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Max Romeo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Howard Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
cv313,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
U.S. Maple,
Model 500,
Brand Nubian,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
Peter & Gordon,
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
Jeff Mills,
Funky Four + One,
The Invisible,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
In Retrospect,
Faraquet,
Lightning Bolt,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
Intrusion,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bauhaus,
Derrick May,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
Sandy B,
Quantec,
Vladislav Delay,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cure,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Pus,
Young Marble Giants,
The Slackers,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.