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 St Lucia and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill,
MDC,
Jacob Miller,
Skarface,
Magazine,
Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Idris Muhammad,
Slave,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Dawn Penn,
Erasure,
The Searchers,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
48th St. Collective,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Babytalk,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
David McCallum,
Neu!,
Kenny Larkin,
Metal Thangz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Guru Guru,
the Soft Cell,
Don Cherry,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Boredoms,
Juan Atkins,
Spoonie Gee,
Soul II Soul,
Reagan Youth,
In Retrospect,
Yaz,
Gabor Szabo,
Circle Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Accadde A,
The Slits,
Marmalade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Wells,
Robert Görl,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.