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 Mauritania and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Slave 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Khruangbin,
Lyres,
Delon & Dalcan,
Trumans Water,
Skarface,
Soft Cell,
Crime,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
Blossom Toes,
Adolescents,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ken Boothe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalann,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pierre Henry,
Nas,
Pantaleimon,
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Skatalites,
Tears for Fears,
Hardrive,
Procol Harum,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boredoms,
Joyce Sims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Style,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
the Germs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
Young Marble Giants,
Suicide,
The Motions,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Clear Light,
Soft Machine,
The Searchers,
Oblivians,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Loose Ends,
Royal Trux,
Zapp,
Brand Nubian,
Ronnie Foster,
Dawn Penn,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.