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 Bolivia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the jazz 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
The Doors,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Electric Prunes,
Tears for Fears,
The Moleskins,
The Monochrome Set,
Dorothy Ashby,
Danielle Patucci,
Rekid,
Ossler,
Young Marble Giants,
Pulsallama,
Vainqueur,
Cymande,
Ponytail,
X-Ray Spex,
The United States of America,
H. Thieme,
The Modern Lovers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
The Mighty Diamonds,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Marc Almond,
The Electric Prunes,
Sight & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Interpol,
48th St. Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aaron Thompson,
John Foxx,
Livin' Joy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young,
Echospace,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Bowie,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q65,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Halsall,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Country Teasers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sixth Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.