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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 David Axelrod to the grime 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Minnie Riperton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Q and Not U,
The Neon Judgement,
Pussy Galore,
Public Enemy,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
Absolute Body Control,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
Jandek,
Icehouse,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Archie Shepp,
Marmalade,
Peter & Gordon,
Rosa Yemen,
The Move,
Black Moon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Stockholm Monsters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Talk Talk,
The Velvet Underground,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Wire,
Babytalk,
Bobby Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Radiohead,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dennis Brown,
The Cramps,
Agent Orange,
World's Most,
Robert Wyatt,
Outsiders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.