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 Lebanon and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Country Teasers,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Eric Copeland,
The Fortunes,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
Aswad,
The Neon Judgement,
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alton Ellis,
H. Thieme,
Man Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vladislav Delay,
Mars,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Terry,
Sister Nancy,
Masters at Work,
Minor Threat,
Patti Smith,
Funkadelic,
Trumans Water,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Theoretical Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Durutti Column,
Y Pants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
The Doors,
Siglo XX,
June of 44,
Adolescents,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.