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 Grenada and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the grunge 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
Easy Going,
Carl Craig,
Pere Ubu,
Eurythmics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mark Hollis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spandau Ballet,
James White and The Blacks,
Cameo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Iggy Pop,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronan,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Lynne,
Grauzone,
Nas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kayak,
Wings,
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
Theoretical Girls,
Derrick May,
Black Moon,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
The Black Dice,
Thompson Twins,
Aaron Thompson,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Shadows of Knight,
Danielle Patucci,
The Moleskins,
Minny Pops,
John Coltrane,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Aloha Tigers,
New Order,
Henry Cow,
Khruangbin,
Depeche Mode,
Arthur Verocai,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Last Poets,
David McCallum,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tomorrow,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.