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 Guinea-Bissau and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Groovy Waters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Subhumans,
Yazoo,
Tres Demented,
Donny Hathaway,
The Slackers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Real Kids,
Ultra Naté,
UT,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Maleditus Sound,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
Flash Fearless,
The Durutti Column,
Neu!,
Sun City Girls,
Index,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moss Icon,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
the Association,
Sun Ra,
Pylon,
Hashim,
Little Man,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sugar Minott,
The Cure,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Rufus Thomas,
The Black Dice,
Tropical Tobacco,
Adolescents,
Roy Ayers,
T.S.O.L.,
Rosa Yemen,
Michelle Simonal,
Skaos,
Bad Manners,
Schoolly D,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.