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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the punk 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moby Grape,
The Mummies,
The Five Americans,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fluxion,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Metal Thangz,
Cymande,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kenny Larkin,
Eve St. Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grauzone,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Liliput,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalann,
The Fuzztones,
Reagan Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
The Red Krayola,
The Standells,
Kurtis Blow,
Eurythmics,
Crooked Eye,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minutemen,
Monolake,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
The Gun Club,
The Slackers,
Schoolly D,
The Raincoats,
Bush Tetras,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Rundgren,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harmonia,
The Gories,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moss Icon,
David Axelrod,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Max Romeo,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.