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 Taiwan and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Infiniti to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-101,
Agent Orange,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Joe Smooth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skaos,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
JFA,
Pierre Henry,
Desert Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
10cc,
Kas Product,
ABC,
Rosa Yemen,
Amazonics,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Minor Threat,
Jerry's Kids,
Arcadia,
Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Shoche,
Danielle Patucci,
The Red Krayola,
These Immortal Souls,
a-ha,
Scrapy,
The Fortunes,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
Japan,
Magma,
The Birthday Party,
The Move,
Excepter,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
Sonic Youth,
Cluster,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sandy B,
Brand Nubian,
Funkadelic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Maleditus Sound,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.