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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Vogues to the electroclash 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Tremeloes,
D'Angelo,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radio Birdman,
Rekid,
Magma,
Aloha Tigers,
the Germs,
Clear Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare,
8 Eyed Spy,
A Certain Ratio,
The Seeds,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Görl,
Rapeman,
Supertramp,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
The Cowsills,
The Slackers,
Agent Orange,
Alison Limerick,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nik Kershaw,
Siglo XX,
In Retrospect,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Mars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultravox,
the Sonics,
Barclay James Harvest,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
Vladislav Delay,
Eric Dolphy,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.