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 Lebanon and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Black Moon to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sight & Sound,
Pole,
KRS-One,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
Make Up,
Don Cherry,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The J.B.'s,
The Slits,
Hoover,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Soft Machine,
the Association,
Minny Pops,
Underground Resistance,
The Grass Roots,
Ituana,
Letta Mbulu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faust,
Agitation Free,
Cluster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nas,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Skatalites,
The Cure,
Dark Day,
The Techniques,
AZ,
EPMD,
Robert Wyatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
The Durutti Column,
Crash Course in Science,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Sex Pistols,
Massinfluence,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Essential Logic,
Kevin Saunderson,
K-Klass,
Morten Harket,
Albert Ayler,
Ornette Coleman,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.