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 United Kingdom and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Lightning Bolt to the jazz 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Soul Sonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bill Near,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cecil Taylor,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ludus,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
DJ Style,
Soulsonic Force,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Pretty Things,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
JFA,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
The Zeros,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Flamin' Groovies,
AZ,
The Litter,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
The Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Red Krayola,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minor Threat,
Lungfish,
Brass Construction,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Remains,
The Sonics,
The Mummies,
The Count Five,
Andrew Hill,
Thompson Twins,
The Mojo Men,
KRS-One,
The Knickerbockers,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.