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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deadbeat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
Country Joe & The Fish,
D'Angelo,
Livin' Joy,
Arcadia,
These Immortal Souls,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
FM Einheit,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Carl Craig,
Sarah Menescal,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
The Walker Brothers,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moss Icon,
Neu!,
Sex Pistols,
Suburban Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Boredoms,
The Searchers,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
The Moody Blues,
Dennis Brown,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
Make Up,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Robert Hood,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siglo XX,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
R.M.O.,
Eden Ahbez,
Liliput,
Unwound,
The Toasters,
Cybotron,
Albert Ayler,
Charles Mingus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
Jacques Brel,
The J.B.'s,
Absolute Body Control,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.