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 Colombia and from Bremen.
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 Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Donny Hathaway to the crunk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeff Mills,
Youth Brigade,
JFA,
Ice-T,
Index,
Howard Jones,
Derrick May,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Neu!,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Livin' Joy,
Camberwell Now,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Near,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Qualms,
The Music Machine,
Cal Tjader,
The Searchers,
Von Mondo,
The Selecter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Model 500,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Sheep,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
Gang Green,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
Pantaleimon,
Hashim,
The Real Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barbara Tucker,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
The Slits,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Loose Ends,
Sparks,
Shoche,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skaos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Stiv Bators,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cluster,
The Leaves,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.