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 Vanuatu and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alison Limerick to the punk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
L. Decosne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Colin Newman,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Graham Central Station,
Quadrant,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dennis Brown,
Arthur Verocai,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wolf Eyes,
John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
Maurizio,
Ronnie Foster,
Unwound,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Swell Maps,
Black Bananas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Happenings,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Fraelich,
The Star Department,
Agitation Free,
The Barracudas,
ABC,
X-102,
The Doobie Brothers,
Excepter,
Magazine,
Crash Course in Science,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barbara Tucker,
Spoonie Gee,
Ludus,
Niagra,
Lucky Dragons,
Audionom,
The Monochrome Set,
The Detroit Cobras,
Adolescents,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Sherman,
Eli Mardock,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.