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 Kenya and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Connie Case,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Womack,
Rod Modell,
Todd Terry,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Sherman,
The Blackbyrds,
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Oblivians,
U.S. Maple,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Almond,
Camouflage,
The Gap Band,
the Association,
Grey Daturas,
CMW,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
Deadbeat,
Livin' Joy,
The Names,
Lindisfarne,
Eurythmics,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
Can,
The Move,
Pierre Henry,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiohead,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Velvet Underground,
Marcia Griffiths,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fat Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.