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 Georgia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 X-Ray Spex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Andrew Hill,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
L. Decosne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Warsaw,
Man Parrish,
Boredoms,
The Cowsills,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skriet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fuzztones,
Brass Construction,
Unrelated Segments,
Althea and Donna,
Khruangbin,
Smog,
Lower 48,
The Star Department,
The Techniques,
Blossom Toes,
Charles Mingus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Con Funk Shun,
Guru Guru,
The Sonics,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Qualms,
The Slackers,
Funkadelic,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
La Düsseldorf,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Pretty Things,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.