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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Terry to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Severed Heads,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
Heaven 17,
Yellowson,
Unwound,
Minny Pops,
Chris & Cosey,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
Sound Behaviour,
Average White Band,
Connie Case,
The Gories,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
Letta Mbulu,
Ice-T,
Swans,
Y Pants,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Surgeon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Masters at Work,
The Evens,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Supertramp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Archie Shepp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
Funkadelic,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fall,
Lyres,
Alton Ellis,
Royal Trux,
World's Most,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Technova,
Moss Icon,
Byron Stingily,
Cymande,
La Düsseldorf,
Oblivians,
Matthew Bourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
Ralphi Rosario,
KRS-One,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.