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 South Africa and from Manila.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 The Names to the grime 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Moleskins,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
Gang of Four,
DJ Sneak,
Surgeon,
Gang Green,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
Lindisfarne,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
Barbara Tucker,
EPMD,
The Stooges,
Wally Richardson,
Hot Snakes,
Gong,
Boz Scaggs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Loose Ends,
Connie Case,
Bill Wells,
Carl Craig,
Fatback Band,
The New Christs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index,
Junior Murvin,
Chris & Cosey,
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
Pagans,
David Bowie,
Niagra,
K-Klass,
Gregory Isaacs,
E-Dancer,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Peter and Kerry,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
Alphaville,
The Standells,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Machine,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.