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 Kyrgyzstan and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Toasters to the crunk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Bill Wells,
Toni Rubio,
Joyce Sims,
Rapeman,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ice-T,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
48th St. Collective,
Rakim,
Todd Rundgren,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Angels of Light,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Buckinghams,
Au Pairs,
John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
10cc,
Moby Grape,
Guru Guru,
Graham Central Station,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Fat Boys,
Boredoms,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
The Barracudas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jandek,
U.S. Maple,
FM Einheit,
Rotary Connection,
Hot Snakes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Sight & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Pagans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.