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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shoche to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Arab on Radar,
The Blues Magoos,
Pere Ubu,
the Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nils Olav,
The Five Americans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Derrick May,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
Negative Approach,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Toni Rubio,
Amazonics,
Radio Birdman,
48th St. Collective,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brothers Johnson,
The Beau Brummels,
UT,
the Sonics,
The Gun Club,
KRS-One,
Jeff Mills,
Hasil Adkins,
Desert Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fugs,
Ten City,
The Slackers,
The Blackbyrds,
Mars,
The Martian,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Banda Bassotti,
Bush Tetras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
the Germs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.