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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 The Wake to the electroclash 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mark Hollis,
Danielle Patucci,
Jesper Dahlback,
Average White Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Steve Hackett,
The Divine Comedy,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
Icehouse,
Whodini,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Enemy,
The Cramps,
Simply Red,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Von Mondo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
The Real Kids,
Stereo Dub,
Barrington Levy,
EPMD,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
Lakeside,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Standells,
The Names,
Sandy B,
Pole,
L. Decosne,
The Star Department,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arcadia,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
Easy Going,
Fat Boys,
Drexciya,
Schoolly D,
Robert Hood,
Rufus Thomas,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Morten Harket,
Organ,
The Fortunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.