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 Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Curtis Mayfield to the jazz 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers,
Khruangbin,
The Gories,
Panda Bear,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rites of Spring,
PIL,
Echospace,
AZ,
the Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
Letta Mbulu,
Livin' Joy,
Pole,
Kerrie Biddell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Matthew Halsall,
Lungfish,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Zeros,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James White and The Blacks,
The Vogues,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Johnny Clarke,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Essential Logic,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed,
Whodini,
KRS-One,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare,
Simply Red,
Tubeway Army,
The Five Americans,
The Saints,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arthur Verocai,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.