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 Monaco and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the crunk 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Carl Craig,
Simply Red,
Man Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Eric Copeland,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Byrd,
The Beau Brummels,
The Remains,
Terry Callier,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
Leonard Cohen,
Silicon Teens,
Gang Starr,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Ronnie Foster,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drexciya,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Grey Daturas,
The Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
Little Man,
Suicide,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Bar-Kays,
Sparks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Red Krayola,
New Order,
The Fall,
Idris Muhammad,
Echospace,
Lightning Bolt,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Don Cherry,
Lakeside,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
Masters at Work,
The Searchers,
A Certain Ratio,
Lucky Dragons,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.