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 Syria and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Halsall to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Moon,
Josef K,
Q65,
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
Animal Collective,
Interpol,
Patti Smith,
Minor Threat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Starr,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
The Dirtbombs,
Fluxion,
Yaz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ohio Players,
UT,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arab on Radar,
Alison Limerick,
Joey Negro,
Cybotron,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Faust,
Japan,
Funkadelic,
Ossler,
Al Stewart,
LL Cool J,
Q and Not U,
Derrick May,
Morten Harket,
Aloha Tigers,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
Ronnie Foster,
Carl Craig,
Leonard Cohen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.