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 Iraq and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
Absolute Body Control,
Amon Düül II,
Angry Samoans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deepchord,
Intrusion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ludus,
Fugazi,
Black Flag,
Minutemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Average White Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cure,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Delon & Dalcan,
Suburban Knight,
Goldenarms,
Gerry Rafferty,
Livin' Joy,
Man Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
The J.B.'s,
MC5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
Procol Harum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
AZ,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.