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 Uganda and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Alphaville,
Steve Hackett,
Cameo,
The Kinks,
Ossler,
Godley & Creme,
The J.B.'s,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Maurizio,
Pere Ubu,
Dawn Penn,
New York Dolls,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
MDC,
Sparks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Technova,
The Red Krayola,
Scratch Acid,
The Smoke,
Swans,
Anthony Braxton,
Drexciya,
Eric Dolphy,
T. Rex,
Radiohead,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Young Rascals,
kango's stein massive,
Jawbox,
The Pretty Things,
Negative Approach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Techniques,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
Siglo XX,
Camouflage,
MC5,
Funky Four + One,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
Kerri Chandler,
Pierre Henry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Sonics,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
Tomorrow,
Peter and Kerry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Eve St. Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.