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 Libya and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 a-ha to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
Nas,
Chrome,
Moby Grape,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Byrd,
Gong,
The Litter,
John Holt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Loose Ends,
The Fortunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Excepter,
Dorothy Ashby,
One Last Wish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Clear Light,
Blake Baxter,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
David McCallum,
The Martian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Albert Ayler,
Dawn Penn,
Wolf Eyes,
X-102,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Knickerbockers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Coltrane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
Rapeman,
Dave Gahan,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter and Kerry,
CMW,
Tres Demented,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.