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 Fiji and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Los Fastidios to the funk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Porter Ricks,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Subhumans,
Letta Mbulu,
David Axelrod,
MC5,
Drexciya,
PIL,
kango's stein massive,
The Motions,
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monolake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tim Buckley,
Warren Ellis,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Danielle Patucci,
Sarah Menescal,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
Wings,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alice Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Judy Mowatt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
Hoover,
the Germs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Matthew Halsall,
The Walker Brothers,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Blake Baxter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blues Magoos,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Barrington Levy,
The Young Rascals,
Soul II Soul,
Sandy B,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
The Residents,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.