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 Suriname and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
Lebanon Hanover,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cymande,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
L. Decosne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Glenn Branca,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Fela Kuti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donald Byrd,
John Lydon,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Minny Pops,
Janne Schatter,
Ohio Players,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Niagra,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang On A Can,
The Misunderstood,
John Holt,
China Crisis,
Au Pairs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
Bad Manners,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
The Fall,
Radio Birdman,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soul II Soul,
Junior Murvin,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
Rod Modell,
Supertramp,
Dark Day,
Derrick May,
Crispy Ambulance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crooked Eye,
Hashim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tubeway Army,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.