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 Armenia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Josef K to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Raincoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Pylon,
Charles Mingus,
Erykah Badu,
The Dirtbombs,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mummies,
Maurizio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
cv313,
Buzzcocks,
Intrusion,
Godley & Creme,
Q65,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Mr. Review,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blues Magoos,
Al Stewart,
X-102,
Aural Exciters,
Scott Walker,
Crooked Eye,
a-ha,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
CMW,
Lightning Bolt,
The Five Americans,
Mo-Dettes,
Yusef Lateef,
The Grass Roots,
Franke,
Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Skarface,
Arcadia,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Human League,
Au Pairs,
Oblivians,
The Monks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wally Richardson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.