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 Brazil and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Laurel Aitken to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Donald Byrd,
The Slits,
The Motions,
Thee Headcoats,
Moebius,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joey Negro,
Ken Boothe,
Skaos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lalann,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
The Angels of Light,
Bad Manners,
Aloha Tigers,
Underground Resistance,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Kinks,
Rosa Yemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
World's Most,
Duran Duran,
Bill Wells,
The Moody Blues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Pus,
PIL,
Don Cherry,
the Swans,
Scan 7,
David McCallum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacob Miller,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Almond,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
Peter & Gordon,
Swell Maps,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Saccharine Trust,
Juan Atkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Trojans,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Bourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.