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 Chad and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb 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 Big Daddy Kane to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Lindisfarne,
Intrusion,
June of 44,
The Searchers,
Oblivians,
Crash Course in Science,
La Düsseldorf,
John Foxx,
Unrelated Segments,
Kayak,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
MC5,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
the Germs,
Boredoms,
Graham Central Station,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
MDC,
Camberwell Now,
Banda Bassotti,
The Divine Comedy,
Lower 48,
The Golliwogs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Ronan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Carl Craig,
The Mojo Men,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Rekid,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
Sex Pistols,
Neu!,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hashim,
The Beau Brummels,
Tears for Fears,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Visage,
Ken Boothe,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Techniques,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.