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 Mauritania and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Byron Stingily to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Zero Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Little Man,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Masters at Work,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Neon Judgement,
Arcadia,
Quadrant,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Audionom,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
The Offenders,
Kool Moe Dee,
Adolescents,
Pagans,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Rites of Spring,
Newcleus,
Joey Negro,
Shuggie Otis,
Charles Mingus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
Yellowson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Darondo,
Ten City,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Smooth,
Howard Jones,
One Last Wish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sugar Minott,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fear,
Chris Corsano,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Visage,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The J.B.'s,
Ossler,
Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.