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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Tim Buckley to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warsaw,
the Bar-Kays,
Boz Scaggs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultra Naté,
Grauzone,
The Walker Brothers,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
X-101,
The Happenings,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
The Busters,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
Surgeon,
Carl Craig,
Sandy B,
The Fugs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Babytalk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Aaron Thompson,
Kayak,
The Gun Club,
the Normal,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Beau Brummels,
Janne Schatter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
UT,
Amon Düül II,
The Count Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Unwound,
Cal Tjader,
Camouflage,
Radiopuhelimet,
Los Fastidios,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.