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 Bangladesh and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Görl to the grunge 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Flag,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
Zero Boys,
Arab on Radar,
The Stooges,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cybotron,
Pantaleimon,
The Star Department,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
David Bowie,
Ituana,
Liliput,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Teasers,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mojo Men,
Amon Düül,
the Association,
Trumans Water,
Cal Tjader,
China Crisis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Janne Schatter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Heaven 17,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gichy Dan,
Sun City Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Smog,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Al Stewart,
Tim Buckley,
New Age Steppers,
Rites of Spring,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gastr Del Sol,
James White and The Blacks,
Sight & Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Pretty Things,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.