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 Syria and from Jakarta.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 X-101 to the techno 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sugar Minott,
Funkadelic,
The Knickerbockers,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thompson Twins,
E-Dancer,
Altered Images,
Arthur Verocai,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
The Associates,
Silicon Teens,
the Fania All-Stars,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Aaron Thompson,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Evens,
U.S. Maple,
The Fall,
Connie Case,
Moss Icon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boredoms,
Alison Limerick,
Siglo XX,
Con Funk Shun,
Whodini,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Grass Roots,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Roxy Music,
The Slits,
The Busters,
Bluetip,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Certain Ratio,
The Modern Lovers,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Hood,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bush Tetras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aswad,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.