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 Peru and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
Barbara Tucker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maurizio,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Grey Daturas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
K-Klass,
Urselle,
Moby Grape,
Section 25,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Index,
June of 44,
the Human League,
Soft Cell,
Pantaleimon,
T.S.O.L.,
Lucky Dragons,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
Archie Shepp,
Hot Snakes,
Mo-Dettes,
The Raincoats,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fugs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aural Exciters,
Procol Harum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
Patti Smith,
Symarip,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül,
Vainqueur,
Kaleidoscope,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Residents,
Supertramp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gories,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sonics,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.