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 Nauru and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Marc Almond to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Rekid,
La Düsseldorf,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Remains,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Lyres,
Wings,
Matthew Bourne,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
Masters at Work,
Nik Kershaw,
Tom Boy,
The Mojo Men,
The Techniques,
Soulsonic Force,
Stereo Dub,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Grass Roots,
Deepchord,
Reuben Wilson,
Camberwell Now,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Wyatt,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Charles Mingus,
Skaos,
Al Stewart,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bad Manners,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Germs,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Simply Red,
Supertramp,
Accadde A,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Dolphy,
EPMD,
Schoolly D,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.