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 Cambodia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Adolescents to the grime 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Ossler,
Minutemen,
Barrington Levy,
Boredoms,
Bobby Womack,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
Liliput,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Teasers,
Black Bananas,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
Jawbox,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lightning Bolt,
Grey Daturas,
The Angels of Light,
Fat Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arthur Verocai,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Zapp,
Gong,
Godley & Creme,
Flipper,
Skarface,
Fluxion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Charles Mingus,
Rod Modell,
The Sound,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Cal Tjader,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Count Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fuzztones,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.