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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 48th St. Collective to the funk 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
John Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Bronski Beat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jandek,
June of 44,
Adolescents,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dead C,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Audionom,
Scott Walker,
Ten City,
Yellowson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Iggy Pop,
Idris Muhammad,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Davy DMX,
DJ Style,
Maurizio,
X-101,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Jeff Lynne,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Wyatt,
Ludus,
Groovy Waters,
World's Most,
Kayak,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
Lower 48,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pierre Henry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
John Lydon,
LL Cool J,
Grauzone,
Ohio Players,
Albert Ayler,
Funky Four + One,
Accadde A,
The Velvet Underground,
Mission of Burma,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Josef K,
The Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.