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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 D'Angelo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quadrant,
Ronan,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
The Gladiators,
Pagans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Todd Rundgren,
Average White Band,
Rites of Spring,
Cymande,
Junior Murvin,
FM Einheit,
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
Sparks,
Pylon,
Man Parrish,
Wire,
Glenn Branca,
Lalo Schifrin,
Babytalk,
Liliput,
The Associates,
Procol Harum,
Aswad,
Kayak,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Axelrod,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
Sugar Minott,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
KRS-One,
Buzzcocks,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Khruangbin,
Surgeon,
Guru Guru,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
Accadde A,
Marshall Jefferson,
AZ,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.