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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rekid to the disco 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
Inner City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
Bill Near,
Sound Behaviour,
Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Saints,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Desert Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Young Rascals,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Joyce Sims,
Flipper,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Max Romeo,
a-ha,
Steve Hackett,
Negative Approach,
Sparks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Victims,
Goldenarms,
UT,
Easy Going,
These Immortal Souls,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fall,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
the Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
CMW,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Lower 48,
Section 25,
Amon Düül,
Erykah Badu,
Janne Schatter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Shoche,
In Retrospect,
Con Funk Shun,
Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons, Lucky Dragons.
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.