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 Panama and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mojo Men,
The Wake,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
Rosa Yemen,
Pole,
Hardrive,
The Trojans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
H. Thieme,
Eric Dolphy,
Anthony Braxton,
Public Enemy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blake Baxter,
Yaz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wire,
Sparks,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Severed Heads,
Sex Pistols,
Aaron Thompson,
the Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
Tom Boy,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Fatback Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
B.T. Express,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Durutti Column,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Machine,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
The Residents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
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.