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 Georgia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
X-101,
Sight & Sound,
June of 44,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Essential Logic,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Suicide,
Wolf Eyes,
The Grass Roots,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick Morgan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Mary Jane Girls,
H. Thieme,
Mr. Review,
Technova,
X-102,
Lakeside,
The Litter,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slackers,
Magma,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pierre Henry,
Ultra Naté,
Ronan,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Outsiders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
The Evens,
Skarface,
Nation of Ulysses,
Model 500,
Todd Terry,
Godley & Creme,
Little Man,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.