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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord 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 Suburban Knight to the grime 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Faraquet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Intrusion,
Drexciya,
David Axelrod,
Josef K,
Black Bananas,
Little Man,
Mantronix,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
The Dead C,
Tubeway Army,
Aural Exciters,
Wire,
Ossler,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
Mo-Dettes,
Guru Guru,
Avey Tare,
Peter & Gordon,
Arcadia,
the Association,
Traffic Nightmare,
Arthur Verocai,
Tomorrow,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
Vainqueur,
Hoover,
Kas Product,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Easy Going,
Sällskapet,
Yazoo,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
The Barracudas,
Judy Mowatt,
Technova,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Sexual Harrassment,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Unwound,
Michelle Simonal,
OOIOO,
Deadbeat,
Colin Newman,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.