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 Cyprus and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Connie Case to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
June of 44,
The Real Kids,
Heaven 17,
Metal Thangz,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Young Rascals,
Blake Baxter,
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Axelrod,
Swell Maps,
Tommy Roe,
The Count Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Albert Ayler,
Bob Dylan,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Ultra Naté,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cowsills,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monochrome Set,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
This Heat,
Stockholm Monsters,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Age Steppers,
Audionom,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Porter Ricks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
Ken Boothe,
Shoche,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Piero Umiliani,
Hashim,
Absolute Body Control,
Todd Terry,
Ornette Coleman,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.