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 Togo and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lindisfarne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Young Marble Giants,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
Sex Pistols,
Visage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
OOIOO,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heaven 17,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Real Kids,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science,
F. McDonald,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Funkadelic,
The Durutti Column,
Hot Snakes,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
Magma,
Deepchord,
Minnie Riperton,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Unwound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Pharoah Sanders,
PIL,
Television Personalities,
Parry Music,
Terry Callier,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
Grey Daturas,
EPMD,
Stiv Bators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gerry Rafferty,
Symarip,
The Smoke,
La Düsseldorf,
Flipper,
Brass Construction,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sällskapet,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.