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 Australia and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neon Judgement to the electroclash 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
The Slits,
New Age Steppers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gories,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smoke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Chris Corsano,
Arthur Verocai,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
The Gladiators,
kango's stein massive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smiths,
Jacques Brel,
Camouflage,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sight & Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Susan Cadogan,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
Wally Richardson,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Real Kids,
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
Au Pairs,
The Standells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Surgeon,
The Moody Blues,
Agitation Free,
Dark Day,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
The Pop Group,
Joe Smooth,
Model 500,
Ituana,
Lakeside,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Adolescents,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
Yazoo,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.