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 Monaco and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 Masters at Work to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Cramps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Masters at Work,
The Blackbyrds,
Kurtis Blow,
Aural Exciters,
Pagans,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlback,
kango's stein massive,
The Moleskins,
The Doors,
Mandrill,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
Susan Cadogan,
Supertramp,
Interpol,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moss Icon,
The Slits,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harmonia,
The Busters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gladiators,
Lou Christie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Steve Hackett,
Neil Young,
Niagra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
Fear,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric Dolphy,
Peter and Kerry,
Grauzone,
Bill Near,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.