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 Iraq and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bill Near to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gichy Dan,
Lightning Bolt,
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
UT,
Pulsallama,
Quantec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiohead,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris Corsano,
Animal Collective,
Crime,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
Tres Demented,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alton Ellis,
The Doors,
Spoonie Gee,
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skriet,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Piero Umiliani,
FM Einheit,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Terry,
Y Pants,
F. McDonald,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
Lyres,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül,
The Fortunes,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Halsall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.