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 Pakistan and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 The Golliwogs to the disco 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Desert Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dual Sessions,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faust,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantytec,
Massinfluence,
Dark Day,
Zapp,
Bob Dylan,
Kaleidoscope,
Arab on Radar,
Reagan Youth,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mantronix,
Ponytail,
Pet Shop Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Popol Vuh,
the Swans,
The Angels of Light,
Q65,
Simply Red,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Lynne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
The Mojo Men,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Seeds,
Scion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pole,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
Unwound,
Eddi Front,
Sällskapet,
Pantaleimon,
Danielle Patucci,
Bush Tetras,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.