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 Vietnam and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Ronnie Foster to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Lydon,
Rod Modell,
Morten Harket,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Connie Case,
Henry Cow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Patti Smith,
MDC,
Fat Boys,
The Residents,
Grauzone,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scan 7,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hasil Adkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sight & Sound,
Gang Starr,
The Motions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siglo XX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
Unwound,
Hardrive,
Mantronix,
Aloha Tigers,
Lyres,
Y Pants,
Crooked Eye,
Wolf Eyes,
H. Thieme,
Donald Byrd,
Excepter,
Minutemen,
Supertramp,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cal Tjader,
The Modern Lovers,
Joey Negro,
Suicide,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Offenders,
Robert Wyatt,
Massinfluence,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.