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 Mexico and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the electroclash 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Gong,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oblivians,
Tres Demented,
Radiohead,
The Beau Brummels,
the Germs,
Smog,
Sugar Minott,
Rufus Thomas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rites of Spring,
Unwound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Little Man,
Mantronix,
Lungfish,
Youth Brigade,
Donald Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Angry Samoans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Associates,
The Five Americans,
The Skatalites,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
Slave,
the Swans,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
The Sonics,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
Laurel Aitken,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
The Grass Roots,
Thompson Twins,
The Searchers,
Reagan Youth,
Nico,
Tubeway Army,
Black Moon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.