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 Switzerland and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 AZ 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Interpol,
Ten City,
The Walker Brothers,
Ludus,
Franke,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Brothers Johnson,
Amazonics,
The Trojans,
Nick Fraelich,
Stereo Dub,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
This Heat,
OOIOO,
Alphaville,
Alton Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Morten Harket,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dual Sessions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Beau Brummels,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skriet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
Negative Approach,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Graham Central Station,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Barracudas,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
Lou Reed,
Black Bananas,
Idris Muhammad,
The American Breed,
Aural Exciters,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Rundgren,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slave,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.