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 Kenya 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Germs to the jazz 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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Gap Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Delta 5,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultimate Spinach,
Symarip,
Anthony Braxton,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
The Busters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Public Enemy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Absolute Body Control,
New Order,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yaz,
Niagra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Coltrane,
The Star Department,
Duran Duran,
Banda Bassotti,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Mantronix,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Blues Magoos,
Malaria!,
Wolf Eyes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lucky Dragons,
Boz Scaggs,
Piero Umiliani,
Moby Grape,
Donald Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Brick,
Black Moon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.