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 Grenada and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Walker Brothers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Neu!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Lydon,
Underground Resistance,
Animal Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gichy Dan,
Lungfish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
Loose Ends,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Procol Harum,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
Pagans,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Eddi Front,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Tears for Fears,
Scott Walker,
Stetsasonic,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Hashim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
The Dead C,
Grey Daturas,
The Victims,
Skriet,
Alphaville,
Connie Case,
Soul II Soul,
The Sound,
H. Thieme,
Black Moon,
EPMD,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Aural Exciters,
Joey Negro,
Gabor Szabo,
Ultra Naté,
Swell Maps,
Minnie Riperton,
Jacob Miller,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Yellowson,
The Human League,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.