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 Cyprus and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Boz Scaggs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
The Moleskins,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
The Seeds,
The Birthday Party,
Wire,
Babytalk,
James White and The Blacks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Franke,
Judy Mowatt,
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
Magazine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Knickerbockers,
Skaos,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gories,
Marmalade,
Hot Snakes,
Q and Not U,
The Grass Roots,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Max Romeo,
Donny Hathaway,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Black Moon,
Slave,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Terry,
Lou Reed,
10cc,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pantytec,
Rosa Yemen,
Groovy Waters,
The Index,
Cameo,
Tommy Roe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Graham Central Station,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.