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 Turkmenistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
Quantec,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Faust,
Eddi Front,
EPMD,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Grauzone,
The Moleskins,
L. Decosne,
ABBA,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fuzztones,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Rites of Spring,
Sound Behaviour,
Alice Coltrane,
John Holt,
Lyres,
Television,
Prince Buster,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fall,
Yazoo,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grey Daturas,
Depeche Mode,
a-ha,
Kool Moe Dee,
Brand Nubian,
Bizarre Inc.,
Half Japanese,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
The Real Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.