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 Libya and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 The Black Dice to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
AZ,
Byron Stingily,
Shoche,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Young Rascals,
Essential Logic,
Organ,
The Gap Band,
The Evens,
Jeff Mills,
the Bar-Kays,
Wally Richardson,
Spandau Ballet,
Minnie Riperton,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
Rakim,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
Circle Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Martian,
The Mojo Men,
Pierre Henry,
the Sonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
In Retrospect,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
The Moody Blues,
Lee Hazlewood,
Altered Images,
The Gun Club,
Mark Hollis,
The Gladiators,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aswad,
PIL,
Accadde A,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mandrill,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
Country Teasers,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Sneak,
Public Enemy,
Icehouse,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arcadia,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.