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 Kiribati and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 EPMD to the grime 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Sugar Minott,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
Minutemen,
Lakeside,
The Offenders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Model 500,
Kayak,
Wasted Youth,
Magazine,
Sexual Harrassment,
B.T. Express,
Reagan Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lower 48,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronnie Foster,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Faraquet,
Siglo XX,
Skriet,
Minor Threat,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Idris Muhammad,
Can,
Anakelly,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Enemy,
Agent Orange,
Jeff Lynne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.