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 Serbia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Saints to the grime 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
Q65,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sandy B,
Animal Collective,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
Davy DMX,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Judy Mowatt,
Bush Tetras,
Soft Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
Arcadia,
Alison Limerick,
The Motions,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cowsills,
Bill Near,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Thee Headcoats,
Mission of Burma,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
The Move,
Pole,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
The Cramps,
Zero Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scrapy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rosa Yemen,
Godley & Creme,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Trumans Water,
T. Rex,
the Bar-Kays,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.