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 Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Neil Young to the crunk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lou Christie,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kas Product,
Freddie Wadling,
UT,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Knickerbockers,
Pole,
Delta 5,
Moby Grape,
OOIOO,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
Index,
Interpol,
Das Ding,
Ronnie Foster,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Adolescents,
Public Enemy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barrington Levy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lyres,
Chris & Cosey,
Amon Düül,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
Brick,
Man Eating Sloth,
Outsiders,
Minny Pops,
Yusef Lateef,
David McCallum,
Jacques Brel,
Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
Half Japanese,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
Althea and Donna,
E-Dancer,
Tubeway Army,
Wire,
James White and The Blacks,
Easy Going,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.