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 Czech Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 John Holt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe 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 marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sparks,
Neil Young,
Terry Callier,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Accadde A,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
Outsiders,
The Music Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Faraquet,
Lyres,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Godley & Creme,
Isaac Hayes,
Scan 7,
ABC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Bobby Sherman,
Underground Resistance,
Wolf Eyes,
Little Man,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Victims,
Surgeon,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Womack,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bauhaus,
cv313,
Country Teasers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
June Days,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Tremeloes,
Fad Gadget,
Tres Demented,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Busters,
The Standells,
The Remains,
Funky Four + One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Vogues,
Steve Hackett,
China Crisis,
Danielle Patucci,
Pussy Galore,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.