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 Tunisia and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Rotary Connection to the disco 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tommy Roe,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rod Modell,
Tears for Fears,
Rotary Connection,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grey Daturas,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Symarip,
Pantytec,
John Holt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
48th St. Collective,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
New Order,
The Real Kids,
The Pretty Things,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ituana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Urselle,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bauhaus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jimmy McGriff,
AZ,
Masters at Work,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gong,
Arcadia,
The Mojo Men,
Eric Dolphy,
Slave,
Nation of Ulysses,
Can,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fugazi,
Susan Cadogan,
Oblivians,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.