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 Venezuela and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 R.M.O. to the disco 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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
The Human League,
Ten City,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
Lower 48,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Terry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Patti Smith,
LL Cool J,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
Funkadelic,
Blake Baxter,
Joy Division,
Warsaw,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Cymande,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Vogues,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
Laurel Aitken,
The Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Talk Talk,
Echospace,
The Gun Club,
Chris Corsano,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms,
The Doors,
Wally Richardson,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
Inner City,
Peter and Kerry,
Swans,
The Saints,
Subhumans,
the Association,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fortunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Wyatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Foxx,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
World's Most,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.