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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Babytalk,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Grass Roots,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric Dolphy,
Scion,
Amon Düül,
Magazine,
the Fania All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
Joyce Sims,
Arcadia,
Eve St. Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
The Angels of Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Ludus,
Tomorrow,
Visage,
Excepter,
Au Pairs,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lucky Dragons,
The Remains,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blancmange,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Goldenarms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Residents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Masters at Work,
Peter and Kerry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Theoretical Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Albert Ayler,
Harry Pussy,
Average White Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Idris Muhammad,
Neu!,
The Selecter,
10cc,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joe Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
X-102,
Little Man,
Nico,
Monolake,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.