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 Andorra and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Agent Orange to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
Zapp,
DNA,
The Fortunes,
Cameo,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
China Crisis,
Qualms,
Amon Düül,
Suburban Knight,
Au Pairs,
Model 500,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ohio Players,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harmonia,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gabor Szabo,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
the Soft Cell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
Moby Grape,
Lucky Dragons,
John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Little Man,
Robert Görl,
The Music Machine,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Los Fastidios,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Last Poets,
Barrington Levy,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.