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 Austria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
the Swans,
Model 500,
KRS-One,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
Icehouse,
The Human League,
Todd Terry,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
Crime,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Severed Heads,
Magazine,
Cameo,
The Zeros,
The Monks,
Delta 5,
Grauzone,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
Second Layer,
Rotary Connection,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Funkadelic,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
The United States of America,
The New Christs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gong,
Warsaw,
Amon Düül II,
Black Pus,
Black Flag,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Al Stewart,
Niagra,
Ronnie Foster,
Eurythmics,
The Vogues,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Prince Buster,
New Age Steppers,
Eli Mardock,
John Cale,
The Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
The Barracudas,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.