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 Bolivia and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 Flash Fearless to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Womack,
The Five Americans,
Duran Duran,
Erasure,
Metal Thangz,
Magazine,
Panda Bear,
Rekid,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
Altered Images,
David McCallum,
Aswad,
Yusef Lateef,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
Alphaville,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minutemen,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Amon Düül,
The Durutti Column,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Byrd,
Fluxion,
X-101,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television Personalities,
The Tremeloes,
DJ Style,
Average White Band,
Marc Almond,
Wings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smiths,
The Fuzztones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gerry Rafferty,
PIL,
Jeff Lynne,
DJ Sneak,
Terry Callier,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Fear,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.