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 Bangladesh and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fatback Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Agitation Free,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Görl,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
PIL,
The Standells,
H. Thieme,
Graham Central Station,
The Cure,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
Adolescents,
Brick,
The Stooges,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott Heron,
Johnny Clarke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dual Sessions,
Carl Craig,
Nation of Ulysses,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Clear Light,
Kas Product,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pulsallama,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Bananas,
The Young Rascals,
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hardrive,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cluster,
Sound Behaviour,
John Foxx,
OOIOO,
Swell Maps,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
One Last Wish,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.