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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 Underground Resistance 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside 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 Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tubeway Army,
Kayak,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Searchers,
Ponytail,
Deepchord,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Idris Muhammad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
Essential Logic,
John Lydon,
Black Pus,
Mark Hollis,
Drexciya,
H. Thieme,
Deadbeat,
Groovy Waters,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
Spandau Ballet,
KRS-One,
Main Source,
Fluxion,
Whodini,
Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Flag,
Technova,
World's Most,
Susan Cadogan,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
The Motions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
Scan 7,
Wasted Youth,
Qualms,
the Bar-Kays,
Bob Dylan,
Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Au Pairs,
AZ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalann,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Donny Hathaway,
Archie Shepp,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.