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 Eritrea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Steve Hackett to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Mantronix,
Alice Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
Alison Limerick,
The Cowsills,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
the Slits,
June of 44,
The Smoke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
Suicide,
Franke,
Flipper,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Agitation Free,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bluetip,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Schoolly D,
the Association,
Jacob Miller,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
The Associates,
Intrusion,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
Das Ding,
Chris & Cosey,
One Last Wish,
Kenny Larkin,
Maurizio,
Kayak,
Stereo Dub,
Piero Umiliani,
The Walker Brothers,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Minny Pops,
OOIOO,
Zero Boys,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.