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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
The Durutti Column,
Oblivians,
Arcadia,
Inner City,
Sister Nancy,
Youth Brigade,
Eli Mardock,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Star Department,
The Pretty Things,
Loose Ends,
Rekid,
Davy DMX,
Radiohead,
Symarip,
Donald Byrd,
Mandrill,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell,
June Days,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shuggie Otis,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
Von Mondo,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wire,
Sixth Finger,
Amon Düül II,
a-ha,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
The United States of America,
The Vogues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Motions,
Metal Thangz,
Aswad,
Goldenarms,
Model 500,
Soulsonic Force,
John Holt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Move,
The New Christs,
David Axelrod,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.