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 Somalia and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Saccharine Trust to the electroclash 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
Yellowson,
The Modern Lovers,
Second Layer,
Barbara Tucker,
Half Japanese,
Don Cherry,
Peter and Kerry,
Eve St. Jones,
The American Breed,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Byrd,
Q65,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deadbeat,
Grauzone,
Magma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joyce Sims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gerry Rafferty,
Los Fastidios,
Prince Buster,
Tubeway Army,
Cheater Slicks,
ABC,
Jeff Mills,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Slick Rick,
Davy DMX,
The Happenings,
Tomorrow,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Durutti Column,
The Black Dice,
The Cowsills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Idris Muhammad,
Scion,
These Immortal Souls,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Morten Harket,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.