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 Belize and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Robert Wyatt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Gang Green,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Selecter,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed,
Cameo,
Adolescents,
Michelle Simonal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tim Buckley,
Minutemen,
DNA,
Porter Ricks,
Magma,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
a-ha,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Yazoo,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül II,
E-Dancer,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Subhumans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sound,
Blake Baxter,
Sound Behaviour,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Danielle Patucci,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Bob Dylan,
Janne Schatter,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
The Grass Roots,
In Retrospect,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June Days,
The Smoke,
Aswad,
New Age Steppers,
Nils Olav,
The Offenders,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gabor Szabo,
Joyce Sims,
Slick Rick,
Tres Demented,
Das Ding,
Ponytail,
Joy Division,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.