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 Mali and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 In Retrospect to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Todd Rundgren,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
Average White Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Massinfluence,
Harry Pussy,
OOIOO,
The Grass Roots,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
Zapp,
The Buckinghams,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Green,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Five Americans,
the Germs,
Angry Samoans,
The Cramps,
Rekid,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Ossler,
Piero Umiliani,
Quantec,
Saccharine Trust,
Thee Headcoats,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Godley & Creme,
One Last Wish,
The Techniques,
Ronan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
The Litter,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
Eddi Front,
Hashim,
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.