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 Niger and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Black Bananas to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Shuggie Otis,
Guru Guru,
Pantytec,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Minor Threat,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Von Mondo,
Royal Trux,
Gang Gang Dance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
China Crisis,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Womack,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kenny Larkin,
Angry Samoans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Patti Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
X-101,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harry Pussy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Silicon Teens,
MDC,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Piero Umiliani,
Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub,
Boz Scaggs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
AZ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
B.T. Express,
Con Funk Shun,
The Young Rascals,
Deadbeat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.