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 Belize and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fugs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Ituana,
Lee Hazlewood,
Piero Umiliani,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Slits,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Sherman,
Visage,
Symarip,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Oblivians,
B.T. Express,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Techniques,
The Victims,
Black Sheep,
John Holt,
Prince Buster,
Barbara Tucker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Outsiders,
The Evens,
The Trojans,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
Lucky Dragons,
Little Man,
Agitation Free,
Scott Walker,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Tremeloes,
Siglo XX,
Skriet,
D'Angelo,
JFA,
Ossler,
Matthew Halsall,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Wyatt,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra,
Faraquet,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fluxion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hasil Adkins,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.