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 Pakistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lindisfarne to the grime 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Groovy Waters,
Kurtis Blow,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang of Four,
Rufus Thomas,
Quantec,
Main Source,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
Excepter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amazonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
Q65,
Todd Terry,
the Bar-Kays,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heaven 17,
Fat Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tommy Roe,
Minor Threat,
Roy Ayers,
Janne Schatter,
Flash Fearless,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
EPMD,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Man Parrish,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Barracudas,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
The Saints,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
the Slits,
the Soft Cell,
Gabor Szabo,
Scrapy,
Johnny Clarke,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
Ken Boothe,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
Nik Kershaw,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
Rotary Connection,
the Fania All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
The Star Department,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.