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 Mali and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Wyatt to the crunk 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Urselle,
Bad Manners,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pet Shop Boys,
Technova,
Oneida,
Motorama,
Hoover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bizarre Inc.,
Drexciya,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Real Kids,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Wyatt,
The Stooges,
Harmonia,
Arcadia,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
Joe Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Zero Boys,
The Move,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scrapy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
Sonic Youth,
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Derrick Morgan,
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.