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 Venezuela and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Altered Images to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Crime,
The Cramps,
Delta 5,
Echospace,
The Beau Brummels,
Sixth Finger,
Maurizio,
The Move,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eddi Front,
Lungfish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Y Pants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Victims,
Arcadia,
The Moleskins,
David Axelrod,
Sandy B,
Stiv Bators,
The Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
The Names,
The Skatalites,
Wire,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma,
The Happenings,
Q65,
Interpol,
Hot Snakes,
The Remains,
Duran Duran,
Godley & Creme,
Model 500,
John Lydon,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Funkadelic,
Fear,
Essential Logic,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Teasers,
Livin' Joy,
Flipper,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Lower 48,
The Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Steve Hackett,
Lightning Bolt,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.