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 Montenegro and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 the Bar-Kays to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
The Velvet Underground,
This Heat,
Metal Thangz,
Eli Mardock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arcadia,
Pet Shop Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
The Pretty Things,
The Alarm Clocks,
Newcleus,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deakin,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Sheep,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Searchers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
the Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Main Source,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young,
Roy Ayers,
The Busters,
Stetsasonic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DJ Style,
Minutemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
A Certain Ratio,
Alton Ellis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fear,
Outsiders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.