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 Moldova and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Gladiators to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Golliwogs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Slits,
Index,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alton Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Faraquet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Busters,
Hot Snakes,
Ultra Naté,
Agent Orange,
Fela Kuti,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Starr,
Roxy Music,
Ossler,
Magma,
Anakelly,
Joyce Sims,
The Smiths,
Tres Demented,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Mills,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott Heron,
Howard Jones,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erasure,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Green,
X-102,
Vladislav Delay,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stetsasonic,
Archie Shepp,
Blossom Toes,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Chris & Cosey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Silicon Teens,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.