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 Palau and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Cheater Slicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Terry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Grass Roots,
the Sonics,
Sun Ra,
Deakin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Con Funk Shun,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sound Behaviour,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Siglo XX,
Scientists,
Joey Negro,
Grauzone,
Das Ding,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Mills,
The Gladiators,
Babytalk,
The Zeros,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Sherman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
E-Dancer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Rosa Yemen,
OOIOO,
The Durutti Column,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
The Pretty Things,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.