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 Colombia and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Blues Magoos to the jazz 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
Pylon,
Goldenarms,
KRS-One,
Fear,
Eurythmics,
Carl Craig,
Godley & Creme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
Alton Ellis,
Marine Girls,
Ponytail,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick Morgan,
Accadde A,
Cheater Slicks,
the Normal,
Camberwell Now,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camouflage,
Cameo,
PIL,
The Zeros,
Index,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Peter and Kerry,
Prince Buster,
Stetsasonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Judy Mowatt,
Jacques Brel,
Max Romeo,
Jacob Miller,
Ten City,
Roxy Music,
Mission of Burma,
Dorothy Ashby,
K-Klass,
China Crisis,
Robert Görl,
Flash Fearless,
The Black Dice,
Sonic Youth,
The Selecter,
Underground Resistance,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.