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 Tunisia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Moss Icon 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Certain Ratio,
Altered Images,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scan 7,
Kerri Chandler,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Newcleus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
The American Breed,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wally Richardson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pantytec,
The J.B.'s,
Swell Maps,
Parry Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Blossom Toes,
Robert Hood,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Christie,
Surgeon,
Stiv Bators,
Bootsy Collins,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gap Band,
The Cowsills,
The Busters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alice Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Skatalites,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Foxx,
Anthony Braxton,
Ituana,
The Angels of Light,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
Lightning Bolt,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
Cal Tjader,
Thee Headcoats,
Carl Craig,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.