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 Mauritius and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Porter Ricks to the grime 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
The Moleskins,
Blancmange,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Golliwogs,
Funky Four + One,
Underground Resistance,
Rakim,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
R.M.O.,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
The Cure,
Nas,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
Q65,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
Infiniti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Porter Ricks,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Normal,
Amon Düül,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Fugazi,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Anthony Braxton,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stereo Dub,
These Immortal Souls,
Danielle Patucci,
E-Dancer,
Susan Cadogan,
Jacob Miller,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
The Techniques,
The New Christs,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
The Dirtbombs,
Loose Ends,
Eric Copeland,
Joensuu 1685,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick May,
Moebius,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.