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 Zimbabwe and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Livin' Joy to the rap 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Mark Hollis,
The Blackbyrds,
Max Romeo,
Das Ding,
the Human League,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gladiators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Loose Ends,
Talk Talk,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Agitation Free,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
In Retrospect,
David McCallum,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lindisfarne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Henry Cow,
Joensuu 1685,
Average White Band,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Fat Boys,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
Niagra,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
This Heat,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT,
Terry Callier,
Chris & Cosey,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Cybotron,
Ken Boothe,
Make Up,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.