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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
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 Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ 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 New York Dolls to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
Popol Vuh,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donald Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
The Smoke,
Quantec,
Brass Construction,
Dead Boys,
Can,
Liliput,
Smog,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Goldenarms,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
the Normal,
The Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
Lou Christie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roger Hodgson,
Easy Going,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Toasters,
the Germs,
The United States of America,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fall,
Deadbeat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nirvana,
Pulsallama,
The Move,
Hoover,
The Martian,
Jawbox,
Connie Case,
Pantaleimon,
Severed Heads,
The Music Machine,
Eurythmics,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.