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 Romania and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
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 rhodes 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 The Cramps to the crunk 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
New Age Steppers,
Jeff Lynne,
Eurythmics,
Donny Hathaway,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jawbox,
The Standells,
Don Cherry,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
These Immortal Souls,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
Gichy Dan,
Carl Craig,
Livin' Joy,
the Normal,
Boredoms,
Aural Exciters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Max Romeo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Echospace,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
The American Breed,
Talk Talk,
Cybotron,
Black Pus,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Holt,
The Selecter,
Technova,
Jerry's Kids,
Wings,
Loose Ends,
The Saints,
Das Ding,
Roxette,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sonic Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siglo XX,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joey Negro,
Swell Maps,
Banda Bassotti,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
Byron Stingily,
Little Man,
Stereo Dub,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.