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 Burkina and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultra Naté to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Maurizio,
Fela Kuti,
The Standells,
Skriet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
the Normal,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter,
Harmonia,
the Association,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
Robert Görl,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Almond,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Gong,
The Durutti Column,
Babytalk,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bang On A Can,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
The Toasters,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marmalade,
ABBA,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Leonard Cohen,
Altered Images,
48th St. Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
The United States of America,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
Absolute Body Control,
Echospace,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.