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 Philippines and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 mellotron 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 Main Source to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
The Gladiators,
Bush Tetras,
Mission of Burma,
The Birthday Party,
Fatback Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Roxy Music,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Erykah Badu,
10cc,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Negative Approach,
Godley & Creme,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
E-Dancer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barbara Tucker,
Man Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Kayak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Patti Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hot Snakes,
Supertramp,
John Foxx,
Kerri Chandler,
UT,
The Standells,
Talk Talk,
Robert Görl,
Davy DMX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Motorama,
Can,
Stockholm Monsters,
Qualms,
MC5,
Black Bananas,
Moby Grape,
John Holt,
Scan 7,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.