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 Mexico and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 John Cale to the rap 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flipper,
Black Flag,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantytec,
Yazoo,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
The Count Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Stooges,
Judy Mowatt,
Siglo XX,
Severed Heads,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantaleimon,
The Gun Club,
Swell Maps,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Sheep,
Q65,
Wire,
Audionom,
Gang of Four,
Minutemen,
Sixth Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
Pole,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joensuu 1685,
The Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Skaos,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
The Leaves,
Organ,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young,
Kenny Larkin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Carl Craig,
Brand Nubian,
Eve St. Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Misunderstood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.