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 Vietnam and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Fire Engines to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gabor Szabo,
Sandy B,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiohead,
Swans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Chrome,
Robert Wyatt,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
Minutemen,
MDC,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Agitation Free,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ossler,
Mad Mike,
David Bowie,
Alice Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
The Techniques,
Jeff Lynne,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
Livin' Joy,
Howard Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Yellowson,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
Jacob Miller,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Young Marble Giants,
Monolake,
Lucky Dragons,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Country Teasers,
Godley & Creme,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Nick Fraelich,
The Barracudas,
Fatback Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.