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 Georgia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Hill,
Carl Craig,
Yaz,
This Heat,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
Theoretical Girls,
The Smiths,
Amon Düül,
Drexciya,
Buzzcocks,
The Neon Judgement,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gap Band,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
The Techniques,
Joe Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Unwound,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wire,
June of 44,
The Cramps,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faust,
Fatback Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
B.T. Express,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lakeside,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Hoover,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Basic Channel,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy Collins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David McCallum,
Ken Boothe,
Bush Tetras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.