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 Kazakhstan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
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 rhodes 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 The Tremeloes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Excepter,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dawn Penn,
Accadde A,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aswad,
X-101,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brass Construction,
The Fuzztones,
Agent Orange,
The Cure,
The Slackers,
Slick Rick,
Stetsasonic,
Jawbox,
the Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
Black Moon,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mojo Men,
The Star Department,
Mars,
Public Enemy,
Sparks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Loose Ends,
The Smoke,
The Wake,
Suburban Knight,
10cc,
The Moody Blues,
Lindisfarne,
The Happenings,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Technova,
The American Breed,
John Foxx,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Glenn Branca,
Shuggie Otis,
The Divine Comedy,
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol,
MC5,
Nik Kershaw,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.