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 Mauritania and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
CMW,
Flipper,
Depeche Mode,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Slits,
Scion,
Ituana,
the Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo,
Davy DMX,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
B.T. Express,
Guru Guru,
Sällskapet,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Near,
Archie Shepp,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sixth Finger,
Skriet,
Ultra Naté,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Porter Ricks,
Yusef Lateef,
June of 44,
the Association,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
L. Decosne,
Sparks,
Lalann,
Von Mondo,
LL Cool J,
Donald Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
T. Rex,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Image Ltd.,
H. Thieme,
U.S. Maple,
Josef K,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rod Modell,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Young Marble Giants,
The Durutti Column,
Swell Maps,
Youth Brigade,
The J.B.'s,
Franke,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.