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 Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Kinks,
Masters at Work,
Popol Vuh,
Black Pus,
Tommy Roe,
Basic Channel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric B and Rakim,
OOIOO,
Tom Boy,
Echospace,
The Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
Malaria!,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pole,
June of 44,
Cluster,
The Pop Group,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brick,
K-Klass,
Cal Tjader,
The Gories,
Faraquet,
Aural Exciters,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mark Hollis,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Suburban Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Icehouse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
The Young Rascals,
Skarface,
The Slits,
Sam Rivers,
Dead Boys,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.