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 Paraguay and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 Bizarre Inc. 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Derrick May,
Joey Negro,
Boogie Down Productions,
X-101,
Saccharine Trust,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Enemy,
Rakim,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Intrusion,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Harry Pussy,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Pylon,
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
Lindisfarne,
Newcleus,
K-Klass,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tubeway Army,
Nirvana,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
The Move,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
Tres Demented,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia,
Excepter,
Gang of Four,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
Oneida,
Susan Cadogan,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nik Kershaw,
The Black Dice,
The Offenders,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sight & Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flamin' Groovies,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
Shuggie Otis,
Albert Ayler,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.