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 Vanuatu and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Music Machine 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gories,
The Dirtbombs,
Kayak,
Wolf Eyes,
The American Breed,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scientists,
Slave,
Pagans,
Boz Scaggs,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
Ice-T,
The Red Krayola,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
The Slackers,
kango's stein massive,
Joyce Sims,
Deepchord,
Kas Product,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
David McCallum,
The Leaves,
The Real Kids,
Talk Talk,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
Scratch Acid,
Hasil Adkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Prince Buster,
Dark Day,
Tears for Fears,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
Darondo,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
Tim Buckley,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Cale,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blancmange,
Liliput,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Warren Ellis,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.