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 San Marino and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Skriet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Au Pairs,
Con Funk Shun,
Joy Division,
The Seeds,
Hashim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Stereo Dub,
Lungfish,
The Vogues,
Suicide,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
The Skatalites,
MC5,
Hoover,
Quando Quango,
Shoche,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Toasters,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cure,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mo-Dettes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Newcleus,
The Dead C,
Babytalk,
Gang of Four,
Public Image Ltd.,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monochrome Set,
Flash Fearless,
The Offenders,
The Martian,
The Neon Judgement,
Tommy Roe,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.