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 Kuwait and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Crooked Eye to the grime 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Womack,
Brick,
Vainqueur,
Hoover,
Arab on Radar,
Alton Ellis,
The Tremeloes,
Minutemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Sarah Menescal,
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warren Ellis,
Smog,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
The Pop Group,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
LL Cool J,
Sällskapet,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Main Source,
The Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Stetsasonic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Man Eating Sloth,
Excepter,
The Black Dice,
T.S.O.L.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Massinfluence,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fad Gadget,
Goldenarms,
Metal Thangz,
Franke,
Con Funk Shun,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dark Day,
Popol Vuh,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Banda Bassotti,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.