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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peter and Kerry to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Howard Jones,
Livin' Joy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
Young Marble Giants,
10cc,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Gong,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
Junior Murvin,
The Angels of Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Carl Craig,
The Dirtbombs,
Parry Music,
Excepter,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mummies,
Pere Ubu,
Bang On A Can,
Bad Manners,
Talk Talk,
The Tremeloes,
Babytalk,
the Normal,
Moby Grape,
Niagra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Velvet Underground,
Pole,
Monks,
In Retrospect,
John Foxx,
Camouflage,
Half Japanese,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
U.S. Maple,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monochrome Set,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Groovy Waters,
Letta Mbulu,
Michelle Simonal,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.