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 Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fela Kuti,
Symarip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pierre Henry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stetsasonic,
DJ Style,
Negative Approach,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Stooges,
Inner City,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
Moebius,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Patti Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Royal Trux,
Slave,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Pantytec,
The Beau Brummels,
Nik Kershaw,
KRS-One,
Jerry Gold Smith,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rakim,
The Names,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Fraelich,
Rekid,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Nico,
Siglo XX,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.