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 Tuvalu and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eli Mardock to the punk 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aural Exciters,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Donny Hathaway,
UT,
Robert Wyatt,
The Red Krayola,
Popol Vuh,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Amon Düül,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Hot Snakes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter & Gordon,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Swell Maps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
48th St. Collective,
The Gap Band,
Pulsallama,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Groovy Waters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Graham Central Station,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stetsasonic,
EPMD,
Sound Behaviour,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joyce Sims,
Colin Newman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Negative Approach,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Soul II Soul,
Underground Resistance,
CMW,
Kaleidoscope,
Outsiders,
Gregory Isaacs,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.