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 Colombia and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cure to the jazz 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Ken Boothe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Danielle Patucci,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Little Man,
Con Funk Shun,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scan 7,
Al Stewart,
DJ Sneak,
Blake Baxter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Starr,
The Smiths,
the Slits,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
La Düsseldorf,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Banda Bassotti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dual Sessions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T.S.O.L.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kenny Larkin,
Bad Manners,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Misunderstood,
Soul II Soul,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Underground Resistance,
Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alison Limerick,
The Gun Club,
Barrington Levy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Brass Construction,
Todd Rundgren,
The Smoke,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.