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 Liberia and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crime to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Amazonics,
Qualms,
Bronski Beat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Swell Maps,
Au Pairs,
T.S.O.L.,
Barbara Tucker,
Ronan,
Blancmange,
Matthew Halsall,
Graham Central Station,
Dawn Penn,
MDC,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Near,
Q and Not U,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy Collins,
Moss Icon,
The Moleskins,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
Easy Going,
Bobby Byrd,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sonic Youth,
Surgeon,
Colin Newman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Smog,
The Red Krayola,
Max Romeo,
Eden Ahbez,
Stetsasonic,
Groovy Waters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echospace,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Starr,
Byron Stingily,
Pere Ubu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Whodini,
This Heat,
Yellowson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scratch Acid,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fela Kuti,
Subhumans,
Cybotron,
MC5,
Fugazi,
The Slits,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.