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 Finland and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grunge 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Black Dice,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Godley & Creme,
Das Ding,
Sam Rivers,
Cal Tjader,
Joyce Sims,
Hardrive,
Terry Callier,
Soul Sonic Force,
Parry Music,
Con Funk Shun,
UT,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flipper,
MC5,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Motions,
Nils Olav,
Excepter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
The Evens,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Moebius,
Gichy Dan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeff Lynne,
Graham Central Station,
Yusef Lateef,
Rod Modell,
Arab on Radar,
Ludus,
Lalann,
The Kinks,
Ice-T,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Age Steppers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.