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 Algeria and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Idris Muhammad to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Severed Heads,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
Slick Rick,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scan 7,
The Music Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Youth Brigade,
Ludus,
The Fortunes,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
The Toasters,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Parry Music,
The Beau Brummels,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cheater Slicks,
Little Man,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crooked Eye,
The Fugs,
Funky Four + One,
Robert Wyatt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
The Young Rascals,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Idris Muhammad,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Joyce Sims,
Ituana,
Reuben Wilson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Circle Jerks,
Janne Schatter,
Cameo,
Rosa Yemen,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.