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 Kuwait and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Barrington Levy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Deepchord,
Laurel Aitken,
Urselle,
Rotary Connection,
Al Stewart,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barry Ungar,
Outsiders,
Rhythm & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Arthur Verocai,
kango's stein massive,
Yusef Lateef,
One Last Wish,
Gang Green,
Archie Shepp,
Grauzone,
The Gun Club,
Make Up,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eddi Front,
Ornette Coleman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Girls At Our Best!,
Amon Düül,
The Smoke,
Boz Scaggs,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
The Remains,
The Barracudas,
Rakim,
Minny Pops,
Slick Rick,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy Collins,
Zapp,
Harry Pussy,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joensuu 1685,
Sandy B,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Metal Thangz,
New Order,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oblivians,
Isaac Hayes,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
Traffic Nightmare,
Severed Heads,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.