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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
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 harpsichord 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Niagra,
The Neon Judgement,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lyres,
Neu!,
Deakin,
Deadbeat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Desert Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
The Techniques,
Das Ding,
Gichy Dan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cure,
Gabor Szabo,
Rotary Connection,
The Monks,
The Trojans,
Roxy Music,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
Arcadia,
The Raincoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boredoms,
Clear Light,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Banda Bassotti,
Kurtis Blow,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
Dark Day,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ken Boothe,
Reagan Youth,
The Busters,
Sun Ra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slits,
Ornette Coleman,
Schoolly D,
Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Moleskins,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.