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 Nicaragua and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Eurythmics to the dance 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fuzztones,
Al Stewart,
Au Pairs,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultravox,
Siglo XX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Starr,
Swell Maps,
The Remains,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sugar Minott,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eurythmics,
The Skatalites,
Susan Cadogan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Blackbyrds,
The Young Rascals,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
Colin Newman,
Desert Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Black Flag,
The Golliwogs,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Franke,
Wings,
Morten Harket,
Aural Exciters,
The Residents,
Television,
Deadbeat,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
Kas Product,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Joe Smooth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Derrick Morgan,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deepchord,
Ituana,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.