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 Colombia and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Section 25 to the crunk 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Magazine,
PIL,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun City Girls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
The Stooges,
the Fania All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Letta Mbulu,
Duran Duran,
Alphaville,
Faust,
Amon Düül,
Animal Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
Sällskapet,
Fear,
Judy Mowatt,
Scan 7,
Hardrive,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Spoonie Gee,
Main Source,
ABC,
The Busters,
Mr. Review,
Kurtis Blow,
the Association,
China Crisis,
Eddi Front,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul II Soul,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blossom Toes,
Black Moon,
The Fugs,
the Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Parrish,
Pussy Galore,
Siglo XX,
Morten Harket,
Talk Talk,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
UT,
Amazonics,
Mars,
The Smoke,
Von Mondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.