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 Kosovo and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lalo Schifrin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Monolake,
Rosa Yemen,
Little Man,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxy Music,
Jacques Brel,
Delta 5,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Panda Bear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joensuu 1685,
Desert Stars,
Von Mondo,
The Remains,
The Red Krayola,
Josef K,
Sonny Sharrock,
Technova,
Pole,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Visage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yaz,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hardrive,
In Retrospect,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra,
Judy Mowatt,
Cal Tjader,
Procol Harum,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shoche,
Neu!,
The Moleskins,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.