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 Lesotho and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 June Days to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
CMW,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Copeland,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doors,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Glenn Branca,
Black Sheep,
John Holt,
The Cure,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scrapy,
Absolute Body Control,
Section 25,
Rhythm & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Scan 7,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Moebius,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Nico,
Tubeway Army,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells,
Little Man,
Second Layer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minutemen,
The Saints,
Trumans Water,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thompson Twins,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
The Pop Group,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
The Blackbyrds,
Motorama,
The Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
Skarface,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.