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 Nicaragua and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Howard Jones to the crunk 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Pulsallama,
Heaven 17,
Stiv Bators,
The Remains,
Leonard Cohen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Connie Case,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siglo XX,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Spandau Ballet,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Angry Samoans,
Motorama,
Pussy Galore,
Scion,
the Slits,
Pylon,
MDC,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Al Stewart,
The Black Dice,
Bauhaus,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Chrome,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moleskins,
Skaos,
Iggy Pop,
Sarah Menescal,
Kas Product,
The Victims,
The Five Americans,
Godley & Creme,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
Donald Byrd,
The Pretty Things,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Count Five,
Supertramp,
Magma,
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Fluxion,
Q and Not U,
Althea and Donna,
Donny Hathaway,
Rekid,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.