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 Czech Republic and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the grime 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Blancmange,
Wally Richardson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Techniques,
Section 25,
Mars,
The Fall,
Scrapy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
the Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sight & Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Drexciya,
The Index,
Dark Day,
Warsaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Mad Mike,
Sonny Sharrock,
Godley & Creme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Urselle,
Danielle Patucci,
Archie Shepp,
Excepter,
Pussy Galore,
Sällskapet,
Kenny Larkin,
Derrick Morgan,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stiv Bators,
The Mojo Men,
The Skatalites,
The New Christs,
K-Klass,
Fad Gadget,
Monolake,
James White and The Blacks,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Graham Central Station,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Sonics,
Ossler,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.