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 India and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Knickerbockers,
Minutemen,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Sonic Youth,
David Axelrod,
Lucky Dragons,
Technova,
Tubeway Army,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Gladiators,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Scientists,
Charles Mingus,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
Terrestrial Tones,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
Ronnie Foster,
Juan Atkins,
June of 44,
The Moody Blues,
Underground Resistance,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman,
Little Man,
Deakin,
Blancmange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Dead C,
Hasil Adkins,
Swell Maps,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
Mandrill,
Faraquet,
Black Bananas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marcia Griffiths,
Shuggie Otis,
Q and Not U,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.