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 Ivory Coast and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Colin Newman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Associates,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moebius,
Yazoo,
The Residents,
Sunsets and Hearts,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry,
Aswad,
Jandek,
This Heat,
Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Angels of Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Silicon Teens,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neu!,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amon Düül,
Cluster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Japan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boredoms,
Fugazi,
June Days,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantaleimon,
Sister Nancy,
Spandau Ballet,
Adolescents,
Man Parrish,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
The Divine Comedy,
Junior Murvin,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cymande,
The Index,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.