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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Funkadelic to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Make Up,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wire,
Unwound,
DJ Sneak,
The Stooges,
Eddi Front,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Seeds,
Skaos,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Starr,
Erasure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Ohio Players,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Henry Cow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ornette Coleman,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeru the Damaja,
Maleditus Sound,
Josef K,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
Vladislav Delay,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Second Layer,
Magma,
Flash Fearless,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
The New Christs,
Man Parrish,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.