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 Russia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Monolake to the grime 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Kinks,
Sam Rivers,
Albert Ayler,
The Move,
Tres Demented,
Echospace,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
The Trojans,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Ossler,
Livin' Joy,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
Franke,
Nick Fraelich,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
Liliput,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacob Miller,
Roxy Music,
Ohio Players,
Japan,
Howard Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Joyce Sims,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Unwound,
Agent Orange,
Crispian St. Peters,
In Retrospect,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ice-T,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Juan Atkins,
Scan 7,
Moss Icon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lightning Bolt,
Interpol,
Carl Craig,
Bad Manners,
Joy Division,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.