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 New Zealand and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The American Breed to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Sherman,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Rites of Spring,
the Normal,
Banda Bassotti,
Pagans,
Isaac Hayes,
Alphaville,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
Deadbeat,
48th St. Collective,
The Five Americans,
Zapp,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
Davy DMX,
Gang Green,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
The Techniques,
Skriet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Colin Newman,
Ornette Coleman,
Marvin Gaye,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronan,
Bush Tetras,
Underground Resistance,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Unrelated Segments,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.