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 Colombia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Moleskins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Blackbyrds,
X-Ray Spex,
The Raincoats,
Icehouse,
Public Image Ltd.,
kango's stein massive,
Roger Hodgson,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Bar-Kays,
Royal Trux,
Absolute Body Control,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
UT,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Real Kids,
The Dead C,
Faust,
John Foxx,
Chrome,
Scan 7,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minor Threat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warsaw,
Silicon Teens,
The Gap Band,
Accadde A,
Isaac Hayes,
Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Christie,
Black Flag,
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Stiv Bators,
Camouflage,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Neon Judgement,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.