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 Namibia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Niagra,
Bill Wells,
Model 500,
Terry Callier,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare,
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
Pantytec,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Outsiders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
Flipper,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
Thompson Twins,
Grauzone,
Brass Construction,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Christie,
Junior Murvin,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun Ra,
Ornette Coleman,
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Seeds,
the Slits,
The Fortunes,
Sonic Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
Colin Newman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Last Poets,
Derrick Morgan,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Rekid,
Connie Case,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fire Engines,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacques Brel,
Chris Corsano,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
the Normal,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar,
Whodini,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.