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 Columbus.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Offenders,
Main Source,
Buzzcocks,
Rotary Connection,
Hardrive,
Silicon Teens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronan,
The Star Department,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Shoche,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
Cecil Taylor,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Blake Baxter,
Fela Kuti,
Eli Mardock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Dave Gahan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Mary Jane Girls,
OOIOO,
Peter & Gordon,
KRS-One,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nirvana,
Prince Buster,
Agitation Free,
Ossler,
Andrew Hill,
Josef K,
Eden Ahbez,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stereo Dub,
The Fire Engines,
Laurel Aitken,
Scientists,
Accadde A,
Terrestrial Tones,
June of 44,
Gong,
Michelle Simonal,
Sister Nancy,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
Terry Callier,
Average White Band,
Surgeon,
The Names,
Deepchord,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.