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 Netherlands and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T. Rex,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
Todd Rundgren,
Ituana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
Zero Boys,
Newcleus,
Crooked Eye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nik Kershaw,
Bad Manners,
Minutemen,
Depeche Mode,
Flipper,
Robert Hood,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
Skarface,
John Cale,
This Heat,
The Zeros,
Altered Images,
Fat Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Reagan Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
Vladislav Delay,
Bootsy Collins,
The Tremeloes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Outsiders,
Moby Grape,
The Smiths,
Grey Daturas,
Sun City Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Tommy Roe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moebius,
The Fugs,
Youth Brigade,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yazoo,
Sight & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cameo,
D'Angelo,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.