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 Switzerland and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Groovy Waters 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eyeless In Gaza,
MC5,
Warren Ellis,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Porter Ricks,
Vladislav Delay,
The Angels of Light,
D'Angelo,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Clear Light,
Roy Ayers,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rotary Connection,
Ludus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Darondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Judy Mowatt,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
Carl Craig,
B.T. Express,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Colin Newman,
Crime,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
The Fall,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
The Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
The Skatalites,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fugs,
Archie Shepp,
Pylon,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Cale,
Smog,
Simply Red,
The American Breed,
Flipper,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
Brass Construction,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Divine Comedy,
Grauzone,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.