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 Malaysia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lalo Schifrin to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
Slave,
Avey Tare,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Trojans,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry's Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
The Angels of Light,
Maurizio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-Ray Spex,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
JFA,
The J.B.'s,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Teasers,
Alison Limerick,
The Young Rascals,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joensuu 1685,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
Public Image Ltd.,
Saccharine Trust,
Tommy Roe,
The Kinks,
Minor Threat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxette,
Patti Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
Nico,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
Magma,
Audionom,
Surgeon,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smoke,
Von Mondo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.