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 Cameroon and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Bad Manners,
UT,
Tim Buckley,
Cameo,
Don Cherry,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Five Americans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minny Pops,
The Black Dice,
Marmalade,
Pere Ubu,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
D'Angelo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cecil Taylor,
AZ,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
The Motions,
Visage,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
Sandy B,
World's Most,
the Bar-Kays,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
Subhumans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lakeside,
Kenny Larkin,
Delta 5,
Joensuu 1685,
Parry Music,
10cc,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
Hasil Adkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Steve Hackett,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Chris & Cosey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.