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 Eritrea and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Deakin,
Joy Division,
Agitation Free,
X-Ray Spex,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Zeros,
World's Most,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roxette,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Litter,
Hot Snakes,
The Leaves,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sarah Menescal,
Procol Harum,
Donny Hathaway,
Basic Channel,
Vladislav Delay,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
The Dead C,
Ultravox,
Black Moon,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lyres,
Public Enemy,
Pere Ubu,
Easy Going,
Oneida,
The Cowsills,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bad Manners,
Carl Craig,
The Mummies,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Cameo,
The Knickerbockers,
Sister Nancy,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
Intrusion,
Spoonie Gee,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Eddi Front,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
Ituana,
The Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.