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 London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 The United States of America to the grime 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
This Heat,
Kenny Larkin,
The Skatalites,
Brothers Johnson,
Nik Kershaw,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
Qualms,
Main Source,
Terry Callier,
The Cowsills,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
The Smiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Buckinghams,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
Graham Central Station,
Cal Tjader,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visage,
Blake Baxter,
Reuben Wilson,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fugazi,
Minutemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Von Mondo,
Banda Bassotti,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Flipper,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
Y Pants,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.