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 Sudan and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Das Ding to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
the Slits,
The Velvet Underground,
Terry Callier,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nirvana,
Parry Music,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sister Nancy,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crooked Eye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donny Hathaway,
Tomorrow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New York Dolls,
KRS-One,
The Angels of Light,
John Foxx,
Gong,
Eli Mardock,
John Lydon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Niagra,
Camouflage,
Fugazi,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jawbox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Prince Buster,
Rotary Connection,
David McCallum,
X-101,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
R.M.O.,
Jacques Brel,
Arthur Verocai,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.