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 Guinea-Bissau and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Skatalites,
Second Layer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantytec,
Brick,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Grey Daturas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Icehouse,
The Raincoats,
Don Cherry,
Lungfish,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
AZ,
Skaos,
Agitation Free,
Sugar Minott,
Black Flag,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Moleskins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rosa Yemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crime,
Bluetip,
The Mummies,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scrapy,
The Seeds,
The Buckinghams,
The United States of America,
MDC,
World's Most,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
Joe Smooth,
Royal Trux,
OOIOO,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Bush Tetras,
Quando Quango,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.