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 Turkey and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 The Monks to the dance 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Delta 5,
L. Decosne,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
Eden Ahbez,
The Pretty Things,
Reagan Youth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Das Ding,
Stereo Dub,
Soulsonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mission of Burma,
Nirvana,
The Techniques,
Wally Richardson,
the Slits,
Dawn Penn,
Piero Umiliani,
The Standells,
Funkadelic,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tubeway Army,
The Star Department,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nas,
Slave,
Harry Pussy,
The Names,
Dead Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Derrick May,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
X-102,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultravox,
The Grass Roots,
Sixth Finger,
The Associates,
Grauzone,
Arcadia,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Victims,
Hashim,
Alice Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
OOIOO,
Tropical Tobacco,
Henry Cow,
Deakin,
The Slackers,
Godley & Creme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.