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 Israel and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Television,
Johnny Osbourne,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
Con Funk Shun,
Amon Düül,
Cluster,
Pantytec,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Sugar Minott,
Schoolly D,
Joe Finger,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Icehouse,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Human League,
the Normal,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
Television Personalities,
Kayak,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deepchord,
AZ,
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
the Association,
Dave Gahan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Alison Limerick,
Rotary Connection,
Albert Ayler,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Names,
Eurythmics,
Tommy Roe,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warsaw,
Japan,
Fatback Band,
Motorama,
Ponytail,
Joyce Sims,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
Ludus,
Cameo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
The Litter,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.