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 Mauritius and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron 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 The Invisible to the dance 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Fortunes,
Nas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dawn Penn,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
Mark Hollis,
Rites of Spring,
The Happenings,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Toni Rubio,
Colin Newman,
Soul II Soul,
Neu!,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Make Up,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Kenny Larkin,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
The Blues Magoos,
The Velvet Underground,
Cheater Slicks,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tears for Fears,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joey Negro,
Skriet,
Josef K,
Kaleidoscope,
The Zeros,
This Heat,
Arthur Verocai,
Kurtis Blow,
Youth Brigade,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Motorama,
the Association,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
Little Man,
Al Stewart,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jerry's Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.