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 Estonia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Second Layer to the rap 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
T.S.O.L.,
AZ,
Kas Product,
the Sonics,
Adolescents,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soul II Soul,
Public Image Ltd.,
Half Japanese,
Los Fastidios,
Lucky Dragons,
Minnie Riperton,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
Hashim,
Stiv Bators,
Magazine,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blossom Toes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Second Layer,
Lindisfarne,
E-Dancer,
The Happenings,
Cecil Taylor,
Babytalk,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gap Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moleskins,
Quantec,
Ice-T,
Kerrie Biddell,
L. Decosne,
Stetsasonic,
World's Most,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Albert Ayler,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacob Miller,
The Leaves,
Swans,
Public Enemy,
Unwound,
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
cv313,
The Offenders,
Quando Quango,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.