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 Bhutan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New York Dolls,
Aswad,
Rotary Connection,
Isaac Hayes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
EPMD,
The Saints,
The Five Americans,
The Residents,
Technova,
Unrelated Segments,
Eddi Front,
China Crisis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Remains,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeru the Damaja,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
DNA,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
Grey Daturas,
Pantytec,
Jeff Lynne,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
Lightning Bolt,
Dead Boys,
Kas Product,
Cybotron,
Andrew Hill,
Mad Mike,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Sheep,
Michelle Simonal,
Spoonie Gee,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cheater Slicks,
The Smiths,
Matthew Halsall,
Slave,
X-Ray Spex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.