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 Congo and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 X-101 to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kaleidoscope,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eli Mardock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Remains,
Brothers Johnson,
Grauzone,
Colin Newman,
Warren Ellis,
Yellowson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
Graham Central Station,
Gong,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
B.T. Express,
Hashim,
The Leaves,
Derrick May,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tom Boy,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
This Heat,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Human League,
Stockholm Monsters,
Organ,
Monks,
Deadbeat,
the Germs,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
The Happenings,
Moss Icon,
The Evens,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mojo Men,
Stetsasonic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
The Grass Roots,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.