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 Brunei and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Moebius to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Outsiders,
Idris Muhammad,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Iggy Pop,
Negative Approach,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Clarke,
Joey Negro,
The Detroit Cobras,
Goldenarms,
Ludus,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Near,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lebanon Hanover,
Interpol,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
Marine Girls,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zero Boys,
Toni Rubio,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Intrusion,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Residents,
Boredoms,
Mark Hollis,
Joensuu 1685,
the Human League,
DJ Style,
Gang Gang Dance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Terry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Loose Ends,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Vainqueur,
48th St. Collective,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Man Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Babytalk,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.