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 Thailand and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Monochrome Set,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cure,
Crooked Eye,
Ice-T,
Tom Boy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scientists,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eli Mardock,
Bronski Beat,
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David McCallum,
The Smiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
Ituana,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Massinfluence,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pop Group,
Minnie Riperton,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Names,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Babytalk,
New Order,
Lou Christie,
The Dave Clark Five,
DJ Style,
Index,
The Remains,
Liliput,
Radiohead,
Susan Cadogan,
The United States of America,
The Cramps,
Davy DMX,
The American Breed,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
JFA,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.