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 Morocco and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Barrington Levy to the techno 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Charles Mingus,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
OOIOO,
The Trojans,
Roxette,
Zapp,
The Move,
Little Man,
Josef K,
Scientists,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Robert Wyatt,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Foxx,
Whodini,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spandau Ballet,
Lightning Bolt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sound,
Black Moon,
Sparks,
The Dead C,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
EPMD,
Johnny Osbourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Morten Harket,
Cheater Slicks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Red Krayola,
Con Funk Shun,
MC5,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stetsasonic,
Oblivians,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
Unwound,
The Fall,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Mandrill,
Pylon,
The Moody Blues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Pulsallama,
The Motions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.