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 China and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Vainqueur,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Con Funk Shun,
PIL,
The Happenings,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Severed Heads,
The Angels of Light,
Theoretical Girls,
Audionom,
Barry Ungar,
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scan 7,
Deepchord,
Dennis Brown,
Model 500,
FM Einheit,
Nirvana,
Sonic Youth,
Intrusion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gerry Rafferty,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Young Marble Giants,
Godley & Creme,
Magma,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mojo Men,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Monolake,
China Crisis,
the Human League,
The American Breed,
Silicon Teens,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Television,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.