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 United Kingdom and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Sonics to the grunge 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics 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?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
In Retrospect,
Theoretical Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brass Construction,
Danielle Patucci,
Flash Fearless,
T. Rex,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultra Naté,
Deakin,
Mo-Dettes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June Days,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Quantec,
Don Cherry,
Wire,
Archie Shepp,
Index,
X-101,
Scrapy,
Man Parrish,
Kool Moe Dee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Standells,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DNA,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
Infiniti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Sight & Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
Steve Hackett,
Quando Quango,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry's Kids,
The New Christs,
JFA,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson,
Au Pairs,
Amazonics,
Gang Green,
Whodini,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.