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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Moon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cal Tjader,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gories,
Ludus,
Organ,
Fear,
Symarip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barry Ungar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Judy Mowatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
FM Einheit,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
Agent Orange,
the Human League,
The Saints,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boz Scaggs,
Cymande,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source,
Max Romeo,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Alphaville,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharoah Sanders,
Moebius,
Chris & Cosey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ornette Coleman,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cameo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sound Behaviour,
Minny Pops,
L. Decosne,
Eurythmics,
The Associates,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eden Ahbez,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lyres,
Ultravox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Pus,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.