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 Zimbabwe and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Nils Olav,
Ken Boothe,
The Neon Judgement,
The Offenders,
Bad Manners,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young,
Joyce Sims,
Oneida,
Public Enemy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Qualms,
The Fugs,
Gichy Dan,
The Pretty Things,
China Crisis,
The Cramps,
The Invisible,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kaleidoscope,
UT,
CMW,
R.M.O.,
The Blues Magoos,
Gong,
Theoretical Girls,
Lou Reed,
Erasure,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare,
B.T. Express,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Last Poets,
John Cale,
Smog,
Sex Pistols,
The Gories,
Camberwell Now,
Buzzcocks,
The Sound,
Brick,
Interpol,
Guru Guru,
Al Stewart,
DNA,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Connie Case,
Organ,
The Velvet Underground,
Warsaw,
The Mummies,
X-101,
Tropical Tobacco,
MDC,
The Fortunes,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.