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 Sweden and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Junior Murvin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Ten City,
Aloha Tigers,
DJ Sneak,
Grauzone,
Idris Muhammad,
Simply Red,
The Human League,
Hashim,
Ituana,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Drexciya,
Joy Division,
EPMD,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
cv313,
John Foxx,
Aswad,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Motions,
Hot Snakes,
LL Cool J,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Image Ltd.,
Parry Music,
Whodini,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
OOIOO,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
the Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Rekid,
The Pretty Things,
Index,
Fluxion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marine Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Babytalk,
Eurythmics,
The Blackbyrds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liliput,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
T. Rex,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yaz,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
The Buckinghams,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.