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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 John Cale to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed,
Negative Approach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sister Nancy,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
The Modern Lovers,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
KRS-One,
Country Teasers,
Fluxion,
Steve Hackett,
Derrick Morgan,
Pylon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
Harmonia,
Procol Harum,
R.M.O.,
Chris & Cosey,
The Monochrome Set,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultra Naté,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
K-Klass,
Malaria!,
David Bowie,
Scratch Acid,
Icehouse,
Boz Scaggs,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
Angry Samoans,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
Nirvana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Neon Judgement,
The Walker Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Rotary Connection,
Minor Threat,
The Happenings,
Basic Channel,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
Black Sheep,
Funkadelic,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.