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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Soul Sonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Freddie Wadling,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Althea and Donna,
New York Dolls,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slits,
The Red Krayola,
Pylon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
Scion,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quadrant,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mad Mike,
Archie Shepp,
Radiopuhelimet,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
Eden Ahbez,
Grey Daturas,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Gang Starr,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
The Raincoats,
Rotary Connection,
The Dirtbombs,
Outsiders,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
Rufus Thomas,
Aural Exciters,
Ken Boothe,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dual Sessions,
Oblivians,
John Lydon,
Anakelly,
Rapeman,
Pierre Henry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.