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 Belgium and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Prunes to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Simply Red,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
Mary Jane Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Soul II Soul,
Stereo Dub,
Reagan Youth,
Half Japanese,
Ituana,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mad Mike,
Todd Terry,
Wings,
The Durutti Column,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Rotary Connection,
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
Fad Gadget,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marine Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Toni Rubio,
CMW,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
Funkadelic,
Boz Scaggs,
Slick Rick,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacques Brel,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
The Moleskins,
Ornette Coleman,
Barry Ungar,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
DJ Sneak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Searchers,
Subhumans,
Infiniti,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eyeless In Gaza,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.