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 Nauru and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Ten City to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
DJ Style,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Hill,
Yusef Lateef,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Warsaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Country Teasers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Quantec,
The Wake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Cameo,
Archie Shepp,
Chris Corsano,
Thompson Twins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Coltrane,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Siglo XX,
Juan Atkins,
Cymande,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-101,
Byron Stingily,
UT,
Maurizio,
Gichy Dan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Janne Schatter,
CMW,
Lightning Bolt,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doors,
A Certain Ratio,
Mandrill,
Lou Christie,
the Normal,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.