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 Belarus and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rock 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soft Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Darondo,
James White and The Blacks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monks,
Severed Heads,
Silicon Teens,
Crash Course in Science,
EPMD,
Quando Quango,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Alison Limerick,
Hashim,
Shuggie Otis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Buzzcocks,
Sandy B,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
R.M.O.,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deepchord,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eddi Front,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Sonics,
The Smiths,
Chrome,
Sugar Minott,
Mark Hollis,
The Young Rascals,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker,
Agent Orange,
Amazonics,
Simply Red,
Brand Nubian,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Finger,
Slick Rick,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.