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 Nigeria and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Don Cherry to the dance 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Johnny Clarke,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Leonard Cohen,
Toni Rubio,
Michelle Simonal,
The Invisible,
Mad Mike,
Marine Girls,
Sugar Minott,
Rekid,
Visage,
Davy DMX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Josef K,
Stockholm Monsters,
Intrusion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rapeman,
Newcleus,
The Divine Comedy,
Brick,
Sonic Youth,
T. Rex,
Jawbox,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
The Misunderstood,
Adolescents,
Cameo,
Mars,
Panda Bear,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neil Young,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mission of Burma,
Bang On A Can,
The Doobie Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Isaac Hayes,
Zapp,
Index,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
the Soft Cell,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unrelated Segments,
Hot Snakes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alton Ellis,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.