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 Iraq and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alice Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Almond,
This Heat,
Sparks,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Make Up,
Mark Hollis,
Dawn Penn,
Urselle,
Soul II Soul,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
Japan,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Radio Birdman,
Mantronix,
Ice-T,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Yusef Lateef,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
CMW,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fad Gadget,
Yazoo,
The Fortunes,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
Stereo Dub,
Warren Ellis,
The Human League,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
Harry Pussy,
Man Parrish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joe Finger,
Fear,
Quadrant,
Tommy Roe,
The Moleskins,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
The Beau Brummels,
Eli Mardock,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.