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 Greece and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sister Nancy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The Offenders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ossler,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
Radio Birdman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dead C,
Siglo XX,
Electric Prunes,
Average White Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Womack,
cv313,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Silicon Teens,
The Slits,
Technova,
Junior Murvin,
Boredoms,
Bill Near,
Mark Hollis,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Pantytec,
Eden Ahbez,
the Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
Kenny Larkin,
One Last Wish,
Black Bananas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Iggy Pop,
The Gladiators,
Ludus,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Doors,
Talk Talk,
Rufus Thomas,
Half Japanese,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Toasters,
Tubeway Army,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scrapy,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.