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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 rhodes 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 Massinfluence to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Moby Grape,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Near,
Ituana,
Ralphi Rosario,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Star Department,
John Cale,
Zero Boys,
David Bowie,
The Cowsills,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Five Americans,
Tommy Roe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Cluster,
Aloha Tigers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Music Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
One Last Wish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris & Cosey,
Soulsonic Force,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tubeway Army,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras,
Hoover,
Suicide,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neu!,
The Buckinghams,
The Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Christie,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.