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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Grey Daturas to the grime 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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 Real Kids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
Barbara Tucker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ronan,
Pierre Henry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Colin Newman,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sam Rivers,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
Hoover,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
Gong,
Duran Duran,
Lakeside,
Fluxion,
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
Kayak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stiv Bators,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Roger Hodgson,
Yaz,
Arab on Radar,
Liliput,
The Gladiators,
John Holt,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cure,
JFA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Lindisfarne,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Schoolly D,
Panda Bear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mad Mike,
The Modern Lovers,
Nico,
Intrusion,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.