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 Djibouti and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 sitar 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Vainqueur,
Reuben Wilson,
Donald Byrd,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
Roxette,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marc Almond,
Sandy B,
Crime,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Sound Behaviour,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Royal Trux,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultra Naté,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thompson Twins,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Christie,
Yusef Lateef,
Pylon,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Mandrill,
The Blackbyrds,
Visage,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare,
The Zeros,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Görl,
Kas Product,
Tears for Fears,
Yellowson,
Main Source,
Bill Wells,
cv313,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
The Last Poets,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
AZ,
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Aural Exciters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pop Group,
The Monks,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.