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 St Lucia and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 New Age Steppers to the funk 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yellowson,
Dead Boys,
the Association,
Josef K,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
The Durutti Column,
Todd Terry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Sonic Youth,
The Sonics,
The Gories,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
Scrapy,
cv313,
Eddi Front,
The Victims,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Reuben Wilson,
Joe Smooth,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liliput,
Talk Talk,
Ultra Naté,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Popol Vuh,
Eli Mardock,
ABC,
Marmalade,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Nik Kershaw,
Fugazi,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cheater Slicks,
Bush Tetras,
Arthur Verocai,
Ice-T,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.