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 Guatemala and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Mark Hollis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Move,
Sister Nancy,
Deepchord,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry's Kids,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Sherman,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Accadde A,
JFA,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Ponytail,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
The Blackbyrds,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
Goldenarms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
CMW,
Dawn Penn,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
The Stooges,
Morten Harket,
Deadbeat,
Television,
The Residents,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
Parry Music,
Bobby Womack,
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris Corsano,
Brick,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.