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 Kyrgyzstan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash,
New York Dolls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kurtis Blow,
Vainqueur,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Banda Bassotti,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skaos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Skriet,
Quando Quango,
Subhumans,
The Offenders,
June Days,
Popol Vuh,
Mr. Review,
Wolf Eyes,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
Pylon,
Black Pus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Smooth,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
Crooked Eye,
The Slackers,
The Walker Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Amon Düül,
The Wake,
Yazoo,
Jacob Miller,
The Invisible,
10cc,
a-ha,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Mad Mike,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
the Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
The Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Busters,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.