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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Bootsy Collins 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Y Pants,
Aural Exciters,
Kas Product,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shuggie Otis,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
Davy DMX,
Nirvana,
Black Pus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Cell,
Kayak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiohead,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Selecter,
The Standells,
Symarip,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Bobby Byrd,
The Kinks,
Josef K,
JFA,
Bauhaus,
The Monochrome Set,
Bill Wells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
Jerry's Kids,
The Music Machine,
The Remains,
The United States of America,
Newcleus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Sherman,
Monks,
Joey Negro,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Metal Thangz,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liliput,
The Divine Comedy,
Gabor Szabo,
Yazoo,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fuzztones,
The Pop Group,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.