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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lee Hazlewood to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arcadia,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Camouflage,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare,
Morten Harket,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sonics,
Organ,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
Can,
Rod Modell,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul II Soul,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
Eli Mardock,
Suburban Knight,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kayak,
Qualms,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
The Red Krayola,
The Move,
The Durutti Column,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warren Ellis,
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Joe Smooth,
Unwound,
Tres Demented,
Tim Buckley,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joensuu 1685,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Hardrive,
Bush Tetras,
Dennis Brown,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.