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 Tajikistan and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 One Last Wish to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crime,
a-ha,
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
Isaac Hayes,
John Cale,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-101,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ituana,
Underground Resistance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sound Behaviour,
Judy Mowatt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
Livin' Joy,
Colin Newman,
Joensuu 1685,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
Idris Muhammad,
Alton Ellis,
Severed Heads,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
Bill Wells,
Hoover,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yellowson,
Eden Ahbez,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Christie,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
David Axelrod,
Bob Dylan,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.