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 East Timor and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Kurtis Blow to the dance 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
June Days,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick May,
Bad Manners,
John Holt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ralphi Rosario,
Albert Ayler,
Echospace,
Clear Light,
Brand Nubian,
The Barracudas,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
Scott Walker,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
Yazoo,
Scratch Acid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nas,
Cal Tjader,
Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Henry Cow,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed,
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
The Five Americans,
The Fire Engines,
Robert Wyatt,
Audionom,
In Retrospect,
Stockholm Monsters,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.