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 Samoa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 Duran Duran to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
X-101,
Ossler,
China Crisis,
The Mojo Men,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jawbox,
8 Eyed Spy,
Patti Smith,
Swell Maps,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed,
Chrome,
Franke,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Charles Mingus,
Tom Boy,
Crooked Eye,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
Silicon Teens,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Darondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Don Cherry,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lindisfarne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Quantec,
Hoover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.