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 Jamaica and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 F. McDonald to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Alphaville,
X-102,
Panda Bear,
Easy Going,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Clarke,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
The Dirtbombs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones,
Barrington Levy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Quantec,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
The Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
Groovy Waters,
Rekid,
Lungfish,
Fatback Band,
Glenn Branca,
Au Pairs,
T. Rex,
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brick,
Slave,
Sandy B,
Rod Modell,
Erykah Badu,
Anakelly,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Arcadia,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
Carl Craig,
L. Decosne,
Laurel Aitken,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.