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 Guatemala and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 Scan 7 to the techno 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
Q and Not U,
The Busters,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Christie,
Lindisfarne,
Nas,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Easy Going,
Terry Callier,
Index,
Accadde A,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joensuu 1685,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hoover,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
Mr. Review,
The Vogues,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Eddi Front,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pierre Henry,
Dark Day,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Surgeon,
John Holt,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
The Modern Lovers,
Barry Ungar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gabor Szabo,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.