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 Tunisia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fluxion to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
AZ,
The Stooges,
Schoolly D,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike,
Todd Terry,
Hot Snakes,
Metal Thangz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Normal,
Marc Almond,
Lyres,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Josef K,
Clear Light,
Anakelly,
Neil Young,
Colin Newman,
The Invisible,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Althea and Donna,
Ultra Naté,
Second Layer,
Urselle,
MDC,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
The Kinks,
Tim Buckley,
The Gladiators,
The Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Terry Callier,
Country Teasers,
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
Pussy Galore,
Infiniti,
The Slits,
Amon Düül II,
New York Dolls,
The Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Black Sheep,
Absolute Body Control,
Rosa Yemen,
John Lydon,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.