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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
PIL,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T,
June Days,
Sonny Sharrock,
Unrelated Segments,
Kas Product,
Metal Thangz,
The Tremeloes,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Victims,
Rekid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
Half Japanese,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Sugar Minott,
Cameo,
Barry Ungar,
EPMD,
Brand Nubian,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jacob Miller,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Das Ding,
David McCallum,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Second Layer,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Evens,
Sister Nancy,
Technova,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Lynne,
Aswad,
Gabor Szabo,
Essential Logic,
Dennis Brown,
Sun City Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
The Last Poets,
Neu!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
Kerri Chandler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.