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 Kiribati and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grunge 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
The Mojo Men,
X-101,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kaleidoscope,
Guru Guru,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lou Reed,
Soul Sonic Force,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
Hashim,
The Gap Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantytec,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
EPMD,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Niagra,
Isaac Hayes,
Sandy B,
Erasure,
Fugazi,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Wings,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The American Breed,
Scan 7,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Mills,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unwound,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rekid,
Vladislav Delay,
The Selecter,
Minnie Riperton,
The Stooges,
Wally Richardson,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.