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 Ireland and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Porter Ricks to the techno 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Dead C,
John Lydon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
The American Breed,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
Colin Newman,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
Roger Hodgson,
Pere Ubu,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Buckinghams,
Intrusion,
Quadrant,
B.T. Express,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Groovy Waters,
The Selecter,
Neil Young,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brass Construction,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Wyatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Roxette,
Black Flag,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ultravox,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
The Cowsills,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Connie Case,
Boredoms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Silicon Teens,
Goldenarms,
Soft Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scion,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.