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 Slovenia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Mr. Review,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
David Bowie,
Kaleidoscope,
Tim Buckley,
Deadbeat,
A Certain Ratio,
Minnie Riperton,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Rod Modell,
Cecil Taylor,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
Animal Collective,
Newcleus,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rotary Connection,
the Slits,
JFA,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slits,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Enemy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bad Manners,
Letta Mbulu,
Flipper,
Mandrill,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Pantytec,
Danielle Patucci,
Quadrant,
Nils Olav,
LL Cool J,
The Slackers,
Ituana,
Fat Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Michelle Simonal,
Joyce Sims,
Livin' Joy,
Basic Channel,
Groovy Waters,
Donald Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter and Kerry,
Moss Icon,
The Happenings,
Toni Rubio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacques Brel,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.