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 Uruguay and from Lyon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Swell Maps to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Cymande,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gories,
Main Source,
the Swans,
Junior Murvin,
U.S. Maple,
Monks,
Metal Thangz,
Little Man,
Pagans,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
A Certain Ratio,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
Kurtis Blow,
Morten Harket,
the Slits,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang On A Can,
Loose Ends,
Graham Central Station,
David McCallum,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Skriet,
Khruangbin,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roxy Music,
Ralphi Rosario,
Toni Rubio,
The Slits,
Pussy Galore,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Marmalade,
June of 44,
Sam Rivers,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
The Leaves,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Kerri Chandler,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
B.T. Express,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minor Threat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.