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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Sam Rivers to the dance 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
Franke,
Eli Mardock,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy Collins,
Sonny Sharrock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultra Naté,
Liliput,
Cymande,
Charles Mingus,
The Gun Club,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
Barbara Tucker,
Kevin Saunderson,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ken Boothe,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Eating Sloth,
JFA,
Black Moon,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
Don Cherry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drexciya,
Grey Daturas,
Jawbox,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
Section 25,
The Cure,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Donny Hathaway,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marmalade,
X-101,
Marine Girls,
The Saints,
Minutemen,
the Human League,
Lou Reed,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.