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 Marshall Islands and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Lalann to the techno 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead 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?
Altered Images,
Camouflage,
Con Funk Shun,
Bizarre Inc.,
Section 25,
The Victims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
R.M.O.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arthur Verocai,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
Thompson Twins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Christie,
CMW,
the Sonics,
KRS-One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
The Evens,
Trumans Water,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Deadbeat,
The Smiths,
Underground Resistance,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Popol Vuh,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
The Slackers,
Warren Ellis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sound Behaviour,
Spandau Ballet,
Intrusion,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
The Knickerbockers,
Pussy Galore,
The Residents,
Avey Tare,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Donny Hathaway,
The Modern Lovers,
Crime,
the Normal,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.