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 Angola and from Jakarta.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Red Krayola to the funk 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Slave,
Surgeon,
Ituana,
Marshall Jefferson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Count Five,
the Normal,
the Human League,
Yusef Lateef,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
Deepchord,
Judy Mowatt,
Swans,
Minor Threat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America,
Hasil Adkins,
Reagan Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alison Limerick,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy Collins,
Nas,
Nirvana,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Prince Buster,
Camberwell Now,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neil Young,
Infiniti,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deadbeat,
Byron Stingily,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
T.S.O.L.,
Wings,
Guru Guru,
The Gap Band,
The Neon Judgement,
These Immortal Souls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Simply Red,
Yellowson,
Zero Boys,
Scrapy,
Boogie Down Productions,
This Heat,
Kayak,
The Searchers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Funkadelic,
Reuben Wilson,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.