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 Comoros and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the crunk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Jerry's Kids,
Model 500,
Black Bananas,
Rosa Yemen,
Aloha Tigers,
The Buckinghams,
Blake Baxter,
Sixth Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
The Black Dice,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
The Five Americans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
One Last Wish,
Interpol,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Camberwell Now,
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
Rotary Connection,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brand Nubian,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
KRS-One,
Jawbox,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
The Monochrome Set,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Desert Stars,
Cameo,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Essential Logic,
Oneida,
Fatback Band,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.