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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Yaz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
a-ha,
Ronan,
Ornette Coleman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Depeche Mode,
PIL,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barbara Tucker,
Tres Demented,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gories,
Negative Approach,
Henry Cow,
Siglo XX,
Slave,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Japan,
Don Cherry,
Visage,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Sixth Finger,
Wings,
Vladislav Delay,
Nick Fraelich,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Motions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry's Kids,
Swell Maps,
New York Dolls,
This Heat,
Bauhaus,
Parry Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
John Foxx,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.