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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anakelly to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Bluetip,
Wolf Eyes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers,
ABBA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Stooges,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
Slick Rick,
John Foxx,
Sonny Sharrock,
Royal Trux,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fuzztones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The New Christs,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
Siglo XX,
Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Vladislav Delay,
Brick,
Cybotron,
The Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
The Pretty Things,
Dead Boys,
Slave,
The Star Department,
The Velvet Underground,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Laurel Aitken,
Leonard Cohen,
The Smoke,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
Jawbox,
MC5,
Lakeside,
Letta Mbulu,
Flash Fearless,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Surgeon,
Monks,
L. Decosne,
Visage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.