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 Grenada and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 mellotron 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 Mars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Christie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Tears for Fears,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Con Funk Shun,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
Minnie Riperton,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cecil Taylor,
Khruangbin,
The Fortunes,
Symarip,
The Five Americans,
Erasure,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Henry Cow,
Fear,
Ohio Players,
Kaleidoscope,
World's Most,
Marmalade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gastr Del Sol,
T. Rex,
Scratch Acid,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joey Negro,
Minutemen,
Pantytec,
This Heat,
Blancmange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Skatalites,
Excepter,
The Mojo Men,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Eden Ahbez,
The Residents,
Fat Boys,
The American Breed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Names,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
Niagra,
Wire,
Groovy Waters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.