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 Antigua and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum 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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Josef K,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
Tears for Fears,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Silicon Teens,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Erasure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sonics,
The Gories,
The Smiths,
Byron Stingily,
Wasted Youth,
Delta 5,
Don Cherry,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
Blancmange,
Susan Cadogan,
Underground Resistance,
Rekid,
Anakelly,
Visage,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mars,
Moebius,
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
Eddi Front,
Ten City,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Terry,
Pussy Galore,
Neil Young,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Blossom Toes,
Gregory Isaacs,
The United States of America,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q65,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joensuu 1685,
Rosa Yemen,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.