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 Mexico and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Nils Olav to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed,
cv313,
Lakeside,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Ituana,
the Association,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Gichy Dan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fuzztones,
Thompson Twins,
Jacob Miller,
Amazonics,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bob Dylan,
The Star Department,
Jeff Lynne,
Absolute Body Control,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Whodini,
Franke,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cramps,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Organ,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Moss Icon,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Faraquet,
Albert Ayler,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.