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 Eritrea and from Stockholm.
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 Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grunge 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Arcadia,
The Five Americans,
The Red Krayola,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kaleidoscope,
Los Fastidios,
The Happenings,
Freddie Wadling,
R.M.O.,
Goldenarms,
Glenn Branca,
The Cowsills,
Albert Ayler,
Intrusion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Holt,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
The Mummies,
Zero Boys,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
The New Christs,
Brick,
The Electric Prunes,
Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erasure,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
The Associates,
Ituana,
Thompson Twins,
New Order,
Gong,
Trumans Water,
Dark Day,
Aural Exciters,
Altered Images,
Pierre Henry,
The Black Dice,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
Gang Starr,
Con Funk Shun,
Banda Bassotti,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Liliput,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.