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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Matthew Halsall to the funk 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lakeside,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Duran Duran,
The Toasters,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
Urselle,
Alison Limerick,
Toni Rubio,
Wolf Eyes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Stooges,
Heaven 17,
The Raincoats,
B.T. Express,
CMW,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
Peter & Gordon,
Drexciya,
Pharoah Sanders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Moebius,
Peter and Kerry,
Audionom,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
FM Einheit,
Prince Buster,
Vladislav Delay,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Camberwell Now,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Depeche Mode,
Fifty Foot Hose,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Wyatt,
Excepter,
Tommy Roe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Neil Young,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
The Cramps,
Ossler,
Soulsonic Force,
Deadbeat,
Mission of Burma,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.