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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Terrestrial Tones,
Thompson Twins,
Suicide,
Lyres,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pulsallama,
Monks,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Blossom Toes,
Jawbox,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers,
Donny Hathaway,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Audionom,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
The Misunderstood,
Heaven 17,
L. Decosne,
Isaac Hayes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doors,
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
Beasts of Bourbon,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stiv Bators,
LL Cool J,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun City Girls,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
Theoretical Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Birthday Party,
Reuben Wilson,
48th St. Collective,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Loose Ends,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Flag,
OOIOO,
Marmalade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
Darondo,
Sam Rivers,
Interpol,
Minnie Riperton,
Mo-Dettes,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.