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 Korea North and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 John Holt to the funk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hashim,
Toni Rubio,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
Cluster,
Icehouse,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Little Man,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yusef Lateef,
Guru Guru,
Motorama,
The J.B.'s,
Sight & Sound,
Pylon,
Inner City,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Tim Buckley,
EPMD,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Con Funk Shun,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
June of 44,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
Tubeway Army,
E-Dancer,
Das Ding,
The Toasters,
Bluetip,
AZ,
The Skatalites,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Shuggie Otis,
Sarah Menescal,
Qualms,
JFA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.