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 Zimbabwe and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Theoretical Girls to the electroclash 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Fatback Band,
Pole,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Wells,
Flipper,
These Immortal Souls,
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
The J.B.'s,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heaven 17,
Nirvana,
Tommy Roe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agent Orange,
Rufus Thomas,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
X-101,
Lou Reed,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terry Callier,
Moebius,
John Foxx,
The Count Five,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
A Certain Ratio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Al Stewart,
Ralphi Rosario,
Los Fastidios,
The Young Rascals,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sound Behaviour,
AZ,
Guru Guru,
Nas,
Whodini,
Model 500,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric B and Rakim,
New York Dolls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
10cc,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zero Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.