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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cymande to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Searchers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crime,
Sister Nancy,
The Black Dice,
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Qualms,
The Gun Club,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Mark Hollis,
The Busters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The American Breed,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C,
The Cure,
Brass Construction,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hoover,
Pantaleimon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
Circle Jerks,
Cymande,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monks,
New York Dolls,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
Nik Kershaw,
Gichy Dan,
Adolescents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Lynne,
Flipper,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Duran Duran,
Pantytec,
Michelle Simonal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.