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 Antigua and from Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cluster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
The Count Five,
Parry Music,
Robert Hood,
The Move,
Minnie Riperton,
The Stooges,
Toni Rubio,
World's Most,
Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Inner City,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Audionom,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy Collins,
The Happenings,
Tres Demented,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Con Funk Shun,
Hasil Adkins,
The Busters,
PIL,
Arab on Radar,
the Germs,
The Names,
Public Enemy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
Rosa Yemen,
Organ,
Ossler,
The Skatalites,
Cabaret Voltaire,
JFA,
John Lydon,
The Monks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Blossom Toes,
Moss Icon,
Rakim,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
The Gap Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moody Blues,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Fugazi,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
L. Decosne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.