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 Cameroon and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Deepchord to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harmonia,
Newcleus,
Rotary Connection,
The Stooges,
Scott Walker,
The Detroit Cobras,
H. Thieme,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
The Selecter,
Joensuu 1685,
The Birthday Party,
Harry Pussy,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
UT,
The Smoke,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Carl Craig,
The Raincoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Television,
Franke,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
Mission of Burma,
The Neon Judgement,
Scientists,
Hardrive,
Amon Düül II,
Skarface,
LL Cool J,
PIL,
Nico,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
Pere Ubu,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
Minutemen,
Steve Hackett,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
Alice Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Royal Trux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.