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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Adolescents 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Eurythmics,
Aaron Thompson,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
Minutemen,
Wally Richardson,
Niagra,
The Monks,
D'Angelo,
Blossom Toes,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Surgeon,
Morten Harket,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Hill,
Lindisfarne,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang of Four,
Zero Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Qualms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
Guru Guru,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sällskapet,
Electric Prunes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.