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 Mali and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Fat Boys to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Accadde A,
The Fuzztones,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Hill,
Moby Grape,
The Slackers,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Shadows of Knight,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fall,
Radio Birdman,
Al Stewart,
Joyce Sims,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Organ,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Donny Hathaway,
Brick,
Ohio Players,
Roger Hodgson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultravox,
Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heaven 17,
Unrelated Segments,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Names,
Derrick May,
Lebanon Hanover,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Mantronix,
the Fania All-Stars,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
Patti Smith,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Robert Görl,
Country Teasers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Human League,
The Skatalites,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.