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 Nicaragua and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Nico to the grime 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Qualms,
Al Stewart,
Pylon,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slackers,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
Section 25,
Crash Course in Science,
R.M.O.,
Alison Limerick,
Metal Thangz,
The Index,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
D'Angelo,
Roger Hodgson,
Fad Gadget,
The Sound,
Maleditus Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
Sandy B,
Cameo,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Dolphy,
Scrapy,
Rekid,
The Golliwogs,
The Busters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Wyatt,
Motorama,
Sonny Sharrock,
Anthony Braxton,
Faraquet,
EPMD,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
Radiopuhelimet,
Can,
Make Up,
Faust,
Agitation Free,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
Connie Case,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.