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 Papua New Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the jazz 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Quando Quango,
Quadrant,
Wings,
the Bar-Kays,
Max Romeo,
The Sound,
Outsiders,
Icehouse,
Fugazi,
Pylon,
Arthur Verocai,
Radio Birdman,
The Smiths,
Byron Stingily,
Fad Gadget,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
Black Bananas,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fuzztones,
Rufus Thomas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Janne Schatter,
The Fire Engines,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Slits,
Model 500,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
CMW,
The Invisible,
Second Layer,
Aural Exciters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Unwound,
PIL,
Vainqueur,
Lucky Dragons,
The Offenders,
Kerri Chandler,
The Associates,
10cc,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slick Rick,
Wasted Youth,
Babytalk,
Stetsasonic,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
Schoolly D,
Youth Brigade,
The Trojans,
Mandrill,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.