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 India and from London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Pulsallama to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Wally Richardson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fear,
Y Pants,
Joe Smooth,
The Names,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cymande,
the Normal,
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABBA,
Nirvana,
Q65,
Gang Gang Dance,
cv313,
The Divine Comedy,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Porter Ricks,
Marine Girls,
The Star Department,
John Foxx,
The Knickerbockers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Parry Music,
Negative Approach,
Camberwell Now,
Sam Rivers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
the Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
Vainqueur,
Ken Boothe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Piero Umiliani,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang On A Can,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.