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 Vanuatu and from Bologna.
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 Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flipper to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
June of 44,
Iggy Pop,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Max Romeo,
Mr. Review,
Vladislav Delay,
Bob Dylan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Talk Talk,
Lalann,
Kurtis Blow,
Das Ding,
Liliput,
The Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
Supertramp,
Arab on Radar,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxette,
KRS-One,
Adolescents,
CMW,
The Vogues,
Yellowson,
The Techniques,
Guru Guru,
Fat Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bronski Beat,
Pulsallama,
Massinfluence,
Television Personalities,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Harmonia,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Drexciya,
Heaven 17,
Schoolly D,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultravox,
Vainqueur,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.