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 United States and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare 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 Malaria! to the techno 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
T.S.O.L.,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
Delta 5,
Tubeway Army,
Rufus Thomas,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
Crime,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
Bob Dylan,
Arcadia,
Peter and Kerry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Juan Atkins,
The Litter,
Todd Rundgren,
The Modern Lovers,
The Standells,
Rites of Spring,
The Doors,
Parry Music,
Archie Shepp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Supertramp,
Graham Central Station,
Althea and Donna,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
Lindisfarne,
The Smoke,
Masters at Work,
Wire,
Ultravox,
The Moody Blues,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Moebius,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
Aswad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fear,
Jimmy McGriff,
La Düsseldorf,
Smog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.