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 Zimbabwe and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Five Americans to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
Sun City Girls,
Maurizio,
Charles Mingus,
Das Ding,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alison Limerick,
Camberwell Now,
Kurtis Blow,
The Motions,
Skriet,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
Wally Richardson,
the Swans,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra,
The Busters,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spandau Ballet,
JFA,
Sixth Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Mad Mike,
Lower 48,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
Desert Stars,
Newcleus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Negative Approach,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Selecter,
These Immortal Souls,
Dark Day,
Mars,
The Stooges,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
Deepchord,
Anthony Braxton,
Gabor Szabo,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Mandrill,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.