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 Azerbaijan and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
T. Rex,
Jeff Mills,
Glenn Branca,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scan 7,
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Morten Harket,
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Isaac Hayes,
Hot Snakes,
DNA,
Whodini,
Skarface,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Funkadelic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Marvin Gaye,
Eurythmics,
Rakim,
Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Delta 5,
Flash Fearless,
Mo-Dettes,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Eli Mardock,
Skaos,
Pagans,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Ludus,
The Pretty Things,
Prince Buster,
The Barracudas,
Steve Hackett,
The Wake,
E-Dancer,
Dead Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fuzztones,
The Offenders,
Mission of Burma,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.