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 Chile and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Dave Clark Five to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
In Retrospect,
Stetsasonic,
The Detroit Cobras,
New Age Steppers,
John Cale,
Gang Green,
CMW,
Moss Icon,
Lucky Dragons,
Amazonics,
cv313,
Bauhaus,
Alphaville,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
Josef K,
Dave Gahan,
Pantytec,
Wally Richardson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dead Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
Urselle,
Fluxion,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Aaron Thompson,
Neu!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The J.B.'s,
John Lydon,
Can,
This Heat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Zero Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Parrish,
DNA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Slick Rick,
Supertramp,
Jandek,
Marc Almond,
Oblivians,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
Cameo,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
Jeff Lynne,
Inner City,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.