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 Jordan and from Edmonton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Boredoms,
Dennis Brown,
Rod Modell,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
The Monks,
Q65,
H. Thieme,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cecil Taylor,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Absolute Body Control,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soulsonic Force,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Idris Muhammad,
Warsaw,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Howard Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Simply Red,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drexciya,
Gong,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Schoolly D,
Guru Guru,
The Move,
The Techniques,
ABBA,
Maurizio,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
the Normal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Boz Scaggs,
Hasil Adkins,
Shuggie Otis,
the Association,
Pere Ubu,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.