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 Uzbekistan and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum 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 The Walker Brothers to the dance 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Suicide,
Little Man,
Magma,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bad Manners,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
Minnie Riperton,
Goldenarms,
Rod Modell,
Vainqueur,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joy Division,
Y Pants,
The Remains,
MC5,
Eurythmics,
Groovy Waters,
Symarip,
The Motions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Fraelich,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
48th St. Collective,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Trumans Water,
Stereo Dub,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
Fluxion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hardrive,
Tubeway Army,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DNA,
CMW,
Hoover,
Dennis Brown,
Shoche,
Godley & Creme,
Barbara Tucker,
Ken Boothe,
Essential Logic,
Parry Music,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.