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 Botswana and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ohio Players to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Half Japanese,
David McCallum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Yusef Lateef,
The American Breed,
Neu!,
Loose Ends,
Thee Headcoats,
Sister Nancy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Patti Smith,
Lyres,
Moby Grape,
Toni Rubio,
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joyce Sims,
Jawbox,
Agent Orange,
Liliput,
Easy Going,
Bad Manners,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
The Sound,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
John Holt,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Soul II Soul,
Terry Callier,
The Barracudas,
Peter & Gordon,
Mr. Review,
Oblivians,
X-102,
Ultimate Spinach,
Henry Cow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan,
MDC,
Sonic Youth,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.