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 Benin and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Make Up to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Sällskapet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tres Demented,
Cameo,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Stereo Dub,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
Bobby Womack,
Whodini,
Funky Four + One,
Bauhaus,
Gang Green,
The Move,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boredoms,
Theoretical Girls,
Subhumans,
Nas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
John Lydon,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cure,
Scan 7,
Isaac Hayes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Wells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kevin Saunderson,
Letta Mbulu,
New Order,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fugs,
Joyce Sims,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
The Doobie Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.