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 Bahamas and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 KRS-One to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers,
Dead Boys,
Skarface,
The Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Agitation Free,
Mars,
The Kinks,
Albert Ayler,
Lalann,
The Evens,
H. Thieme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Foxx,
Goldenarms,
The Grass Roots,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Unrelated Segments,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Parry Music,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bauhaus,
Roxette,
Motorama,
Von Mondo,
Deakin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Das Ding,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Michelle Simonal,
Clear Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Barry Ungar,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
Oblivians,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mojo Men,
The Misunderstood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Althea and Donna,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Pagans,
Brand Nubian,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flipper,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.