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 Korea North and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 Arab on Radar to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Parry Music,
Panda Bear,
Alison Limerick,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Fraelich,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
K-Klass,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
China Crisis,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Bananas,
Thee Headcoats,
Section 25,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Charles Mingus,
Dennis Brown,
Radio Birdman,
Lebanon Hanover,
Spandau Ballet,
The Evens,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
Arthur Verocai,
Smog,
The Divine Comedy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Mo-Dettes,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Maleditus Sound,
L. Decosne,
The Residents,
Juan Atkins,
Half Japanese,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Pantytec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Slits,
Monolake,
Josef K,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Human League,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Trumans Water,
Heaven 17,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.