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 China and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Susan Cadogan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Howard Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
Blossom Toes,
Aswad,
Intrusion,
Ohio Players,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crooked Eye,
The Star Department,
Carl Craig,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dead Boys,
Deakin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lungfish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
Judy Mowatt,
Organ,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radiohead,
New York Dolls,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
The Music Machine,
Cymande,
Inner City,
The Stooges,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
The Leaves,
Livin' Joy,
Buzzcocks,
The Selecter,
The Gap Band,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Womack,
Maleditus Sound,
Smog,
The Grass Roots,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.