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 Paraguay and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mission of Burma to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Smog,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thompson Twins,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Spandau Ballet,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
The Moleskins,
Yaz,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Goldenarms,
Dark Day,
Bill Wells,
Sun City Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Das Ding,
Depeche Mode,
Pussy Galore,
Monks,
Brass Construction,
Yazoo,
Soul II Soul,
Kaleidoscope,
Amon Düül,
AZ,
E-Dancer,
John Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
PIL,
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
Nico,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
The Victims,
Ohio Players,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Liliput,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.