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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 The Red Krayola to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Tommy Roe,
Visage,
Skaos,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stiv Bators,
Marmalade,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris Corsano,
Ultra Naté,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
Tubeway Army,
Drexciya,
Eden Ahbez,
Schoolly D,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Görl,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Morten Harket,
Glenn Branca,
Jeff Mills,
Hashim,
Icehouse,
Joe Finger,
Barrington Levy,
Supertramp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pierre Henry,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
Animal Collective,
Dave Gahan,
Television,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scientists,
Robert Hood,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Agitation Free,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Flag,
Brass Construction,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Janne Schatter,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang On A Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Wolf Eyes,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.