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 San Marino and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Bologna and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alarm Clocks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Fluxion,
Crash Course in Science,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Rundgren,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter and Kerry,
Joy Division,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Au Pairs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Soft Cell,
Boz Scaggs,
The Doors,
Lalann,
Brass Construction,
Ronan,
Albert Ayler,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gichy Dan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fat Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
Mars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alphaville,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
the Slits,
Parry Music,
The Birthday Party,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
The Modern Lovers,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cameo,
Robert Görl,
Brick,
MDC,
Siglo XX,
The Toasters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monks,
Pulsallama,
Colin Newman,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
Television,
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
The Busters,
the Normal,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.