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 Spain and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Can to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
Yusef Lateef,
Yellowson,
Al Stewart,
The Divine Comedy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Piero Umiliani,
Symarip,
Lucky Dragons,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
The Sonics,
Qualms,
Sight & Sound,
Malaria!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tears for Fears,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David Bowie,
The Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Flash Fearless,
Warren Ellis,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
The Red Krayola,
The Real Kids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Inner City,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
The American Breed,
DJ Style,
EPMD,
Nas,
Franke,
Minny Pops,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
L. Decosne,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dead C,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.