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 Oman and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Real Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Funky Four + One,
H. Thieme,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
The Index,
Whodini,
Wasted Youth,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Siglo XX,
Marine Girls,
Motorama,
kango's stein massive,
Y Pants,
Alice Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Reed,
Funkadelic,
Babytalk,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Matthew Bourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aaron Thompson,
Audionom,
The Pretty Things,
Absolute Body Control,
Marmalade,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Q65,
Peter and Kerry,
The Standells,
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
X-101,
Wally Richardson,
The Durutti Column,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
Grey Daturas,
Tears for Fears,
Slick Rick,
Camouflage,
Quantec,
L. Decosne,
Max Romeo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Eating Sloth,
The American Breed,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Soulsonic Force,
Jerry Gold Smith,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.