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 Papua New Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Frankie Knuckles to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
DNA,
Sugar Minott,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swell Maps,
Los Fastidios,
Ohio Players,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hot Snakes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget,
EPMD,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Association,
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Copeland,
Lakeside,
Technova,
Wasted Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blake Baxter,
The Angels of Light,
Lower 48,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Byrd,
PIL,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eli Mardock,
Eurythmics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blossom Toes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fatback Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scion,
Franke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minutemen,
Mars,
The Litter,
The Busters,
John Holt,
The Invisible,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pantytec,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ornette Coleman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sandy B,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.