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 Bahrain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk 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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Pulsallama,
The Human League,
Fugazi,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Simply Red,
Stiv Bators,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Robert Wyatt,
Howard Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Shoche,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
Nas,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
Moss Icon,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
ABC,
Chrome,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Hood,
Suicide,
Judy Mowatt,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Country Teasers,
New York Dolls,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chris & Cosey,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Rundgren,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Mills,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Urselle,
Roger Hodgson,
Pylon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Trumans Water,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Sixth Finger,
Reuben Wilson,
Angry Samoans,
Niagra,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.