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 Gambia and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eddi Front to the dance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Crime,
Khruangbin,
Davy DMX,
Arab on Radar,
Intrusion,
Marc Almond,
Black Sheep,
New York Dolls,
kango's stein massive,
Morten Harket,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Bourne,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra,
The Modern Lovers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Iggy Pop,
Kerri Chandler,
Franke,
John Foxx,
The Trojans,
Skriet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minny Pops,
Marshall Jefferson,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Bananas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Steve Hackett,
Sister Nancy,
The Barracudas,
The Litter,
the Human League,
Gang of Four,
Stiv Bators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Henry Cow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dawn Penn,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David McCallum,
Jimmy McGriff,
Patti Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
Lower 48,
The Tremeloes,
Faust,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.