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 Kosovo and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stockholm Monsters to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
Surgeon,
The Monks,
The Misunderstood,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bad Manners,
Supertramp,
Prince Buster,
John Holt,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
Los Fastidios,
The Fortunes,
Altered Images,
Tres Demented,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Absolute Body Control,
Sandy B,
The Dead C,
Brick,
48th St. Collective,
The Red Krayola,
Sun City Girls,
Easy Going,
Quando Quango,
Zero Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Derrick May,
Drexciya,
Charles Mingus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fela Kuti,
Aloha Tigers,
Groovy Waters,
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers,
Morten Harket,
the Normal,
Crime,
Pylon,
Thee Headcoats,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arcadia,
L. Decosne,
Barry Ungar,
Hot Snakes,
Al Stewart,
Thompson Twins,
Desert Stars,
David Axelrod,
Model 500,
Bush Tetras,
Sam Rivers,
Pussy Galore,
Delta 5,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.