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 China and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Erykah Badu to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Technova,
The Knickerbockers,
Skarface,
Crooked Eye,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sonics,
The Cure,
Minutemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
Smog,
Y Pants,
The Trojans,
The Doors,
Faust,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
The Leaves,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jawbox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun City Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bluetip,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül,
The Misunderstood,
Dennis Brown,
Mantronix,
H. Thieme,
Groovy Waters,
Surgeon,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Victims,
MDC,
The Vogues,
Bill Near,
Robert Wyatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
the Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonic Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.