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 Haiti and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mr. Review 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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Pussy Galore,
Dorothy Ashby,
Infiniti,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Agent Orange,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Newcleus,
The Zeros,
Scott Walker,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
KRS-One,
The Invisible,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hashim,
The American Breed,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gap Band,
Lalann,
Soulsonic Force,
The Offenders,
The Fugs,
The Dead C,
The Fall,
OOIOO,
The Busters,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Green,
Flash Fearless,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Silicon Teens,
Judy Mowatt,
Sugar Minott,
Organ,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
Delta 5,
Smog,
Barbara Tucker,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
The Fortunes,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.