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 Serbia and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
Gerry Rafferty,
James White and The Blacks,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slits,
Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Nirvana,
Blancmange,
Scan 7,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Clear Light,
Guru Guru,
The Smoke,
The Standells,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Soulsonic Force,
Duran Duran,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Roxy Music,
Eddi Front,
Mantronix,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gories,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispy Ambulance,
Steve Hackett,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
Masters at Work,
The Index,
Groovy Waters,
June Days,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ornette Coleman,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Alphaville,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neu!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dual Sessions,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.