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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Albert Ayler to the rock 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Move,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Names,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Accadde A,
Porter Ricks,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones,
Thee Headcoats,
Magazine,
Deepchord,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zapp,
L. Decosne,
Sex Pistols,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Spoonie Gee,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
Byron Stingily,
PIL,
Darondo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn,
Rapeman,
Wally Richardson,
Marvin Gaye,
Gichy Dan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Panda Bear,
The Cure,
Robert Hood,
Young Marble Giants,
Henry Cow,
Can,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
The Gap Band,
Unwound,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Jerry's Kids,
This Heat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flipper,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.