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 Ireland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Starr to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
the Association,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Velvet Underground,
DNA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suburban Knight,
Minnie Riperton,
Jeff Lynne,
Television,
Massinfluence,
X-102,
Hot Snakes,
Audionom,
Ralphi Rosario,
Simply Red,
Sparks,
The Cowsills,
Black Flag,
Tubeway Army,
Sexual Harrassment,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dark Day,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The American Breed,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Jacob Miller,
Country Teasers,
The Fortunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sandy B,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
Susan Cadogan,
The Modern Lovers,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gladiators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Don Cherry,
Rotary Connection,
Pet Shop Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ossler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.