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 Thailand and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Wyatt to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Liliput,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
The Invisible,
Quadrant,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Idris Muhammad,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Dave Gahan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
the Normal,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skriet,
Severed Heads,
Excepter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonic Youth,
China Crisis,
Brass Construction,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
Prince Buster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacques Brel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Parry Music,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Machine,
Roxette,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
Spoonie Gee,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
Hardrive,
The Seeds,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Bananas,
Banda Bassotti,
Funky Four + One,
New York Dolls,
Monks,
Boredoms,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.