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 Malawi and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Patti Smith,
Roxy Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
JFA,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
Porter Ricks,
Smog,
Wings,
Scott Walker,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Lynne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hot Snakes,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Fatback Band,
Buzzcocks,
Bush Tetras,
Roy Ayers,
Pussy Galore,
Alice Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
Echospace,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Slackers,
Bang On A Can,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
Agent Orange,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Leonard Cohen,
Delta 5,
Ken Boothe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
World's Most,
Silicon Teens,
Fluxion,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.