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 Mauritius and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Silicon Teens to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Barclay James Harvest,
a-ha,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick Morgan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
F. McDonald,
Funky Four + One,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Searchers,
Johnny Clarke,
Cybotron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crooked Eye,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Sneak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Offenders,
Alphaville,
New Age Steppers,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
U.S. Maple,
Barry Ungar,
The Techniques,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Black Flag,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Moss Icon,
Altered Images,
Thee Headcoats,
Suicide,
Joe Finger,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian,
Rapeman,
The Birthday Party,
Cecil Taylor,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.