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 Burkina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Scott Walker to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
Black Flag,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Surgeon,
The Moleskins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Procol Harum,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harry Pussy,
the Bar-Kays,
Alphaville,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anakelly,
The Durutti Column,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Cal Tjader,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick Morgan,
Slave,
Quando Quango,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
Magma,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Altered Images,
Bobby Sherman,
Sällskapet,
The Grass Roots,
Radio Birdman,
Blancmange,
the Association,
Funky Four + One,
Monks,
Gang Green,
Hoover,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Hill,
Jacob Miller,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bad Manners,
The Beau Brummels,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scratch Acid,
Godley & Creme,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.