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 Uruguay and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Marine Girls to the electroclash 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Althea and Donna,
The Count Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Faust,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
the Swans,
Peter & Gordon,
Popol Vuh,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
the Bar-Kays,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tom Boy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dawn Penn,
Rapeman,
Crash Course in Science,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alice Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Standells,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
The Searchers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dual Sessions,
Yusef Lateef,
Sällskapet,
Nas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scrapy,
Moebius,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Byron Stingily,
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
James White and The Blacks,
Khruangbin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Donny Hathaway,
Young Marble Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
Pulsallama,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.