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 Oman and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Average White Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Trojans,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
the Sonics,
Circle Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
The Gories,
Banda Bassotti,
Tom Boy,
Blancmange,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
Funkadelic,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masters at Work,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lindisfarne,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Patti Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Das Ding,
Gastr Del Sol,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Electric Prunes,
The Associates,
Television,
Deakin,
Roxette,
Avey Tare,
Magma,
Japan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Archie Shepp,
Iggy Pop,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Idris Muhammad,
The Selecter,
The Divine Comedy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Green,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.