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 Pakistan and from Salvador.
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 Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Ice-T to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA 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?
the Sonics,
a-ha,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
Arthur Verocai,
Rod Modell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Human League,
Organ,
The Litter,
MC5,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
Ronnie Foster,
Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gun Club,
Liliput,
The Last Poets,
the Germs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television Personalities,
Symarip,
Scrapy,
Joensuu 1685,
Max Romeo,
Eric Dolphy,
Make Up,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Misunderstood,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-102,
The Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick Morgan,
Ituana,
Mo-Dettes,
The Music Machine,
ABC,
Aaron Thompson,
These Immortal Souls,
The Kinks,
Deakin,
Eve St. Jones,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
Scott Walker,
Visage,
The Young Rascals,
Infiniti,
Hot Snakes,
The Skatalites,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.