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 Sudan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 the Germs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June Days,
The Wake,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radio Birdman,
the Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
Sixth Finger,
Terry Callier,
Ituana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stetsasonic,
Cal Tjader,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dark Day,
Section 25,
Massinfluence,
K-Klass,
The Divine Comedy,
Freddie Wadling,
Pole,
Dual Sessions,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Idris Muhammad,
John Lydon,
The Black Dice,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Supertramp,
Urselle,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Standells,
Chrome,
Loose Ends,
The Neon Judgement,
Technova,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Black Bananas,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Subhumans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.