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 Korea North and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Subhumans to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Derrick Morgan,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Funkadelic,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Derrick May,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joey Negro,
Johnny Clarke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pantytec,
The Knickerbockers,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flamin' Groovies,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
Average White Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Slits,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barry Ungar,
Eli Mardock,
The Fall,
James White and The Blacks,
Reagan Youth,
Black Moon,
Tubeway Army,
T. Rex,
Bobby Womack,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd,
Eve St. Jones,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Neon Judgement,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
Ossler,
Dual Sessions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Andrew Hill,
Lalann,
Jawbox,
Monolake,
The Grass Roots,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.