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 London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fat Boys to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roxette,
The Angels of Light,
Davy DMX,
Marmalade,
Little Man,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
EPMD,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fortunes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Victims,
Juan Atkins,
The Leaves,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Skatalites,
Average White Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quantec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Suburban Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
Desert Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Raincoats,
Niagra,
Joe Smooth,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül II,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Godley & Creme,
June Days,
Drexciya,
La Düsseldorf,
Todd Terry,
Jawbox,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter and Kerry,
Kas Product,
Funkadelic,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monks,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.