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 Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the disco 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barry Ungar,
Swans,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Names,
Intrusion,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
Minny Pops,
Hot Snakes,
Peter & Gordon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Panda Bear,
The Invisible,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
The Fuzztones,
Byron Stingily,
cv313,
Barbara Tucker,
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Todd Rundgren,
Procol Harum,
Gang Green,
Silicon Teens,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heaven 17,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gerry Rafferty,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cowsills,
The Buckinghams,
Wings,
Donny Hathaway,
Metal Thangz,
Marmalade,
Minnie Riperton,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
New Order,
Bill Wells,
Glenn Branca,
ABC,
the Soft Cell,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.