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 Guinea-Bissau and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Mr. Review to the grime 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fear,
Roger Hodgson,
La Düsseldorf,
Reuben Wilson,
Bob Dylan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Howard Jones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
The Last Poets,
Lebanon Hanover,
Monks,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Hasil Adkins,
Rekid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ten City,
Spandau Ballet,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
Josef K,
Monolake,
Delon & Dalcan,
Los Fastidios,
Faraquet,
Symarip,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
The Kinks,
Cluster,
Siglo XX,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magazine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Flipper,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Associates,
The Beau Brummels,
Soulsonic Force,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minor Threat,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker,
Iggy Pop,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
The Cowsills,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.