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 Fiji and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Nas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Funky Four + One,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
Johnny Clarke,
Amon Düül,
The Beau Brummels,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
In Retrospect,
Faraquet,
Magma,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Section 25,
Kas Product,
the Human League,
Mad Mike,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Surgeon,
The Invisible,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The American Breed,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Slits,
Warsaw,
Oneida,
The Gun Club,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Green,
The Slits,
Alice Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Fluxion,
Procol Harum,
Deepchord,
Juan Atkins,
The Cramps,
Matthew Bourne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Negative Approach,
The Fugs,
Theoretical Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alphaville,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.