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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mighty Diamonds to the techno 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Invisible,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Iggy Pop,
Hasil Adkins,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy Collins,
The Beau Brummels,
Cal Tjader,
The Walker Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skaos,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Nas,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül,
Piero Umiliani,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lou Christie,
Malaria!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Organ,
Liliput,
The Residents,
Eve St. Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
Al Stewart,
Nils Olav,
Rapeman,
One Last Wish,
Index,
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
MC5,
Deepchord,
KRS-One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yellowson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.