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 Madagascar and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Walker Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Average White Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Amon Düül II,
Yusef Lateef,
Babytalk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Supertramp,
The Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
The Last Poets,
Yazoo,
Max Romeo,
Warren Ellis,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spoonie Gee,
the Slits,
Amon Düül,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Arthur Verocai,
Camberwell Now,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Loose Ends,
Quantec,
a-ha,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang On A Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
Simply Red,
the Germs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Laurel Aitken,
Television Personalities,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Subhumans,
Skaos,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Sonics,
Q65,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Accadde A,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Wyatt,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.