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 Portugal and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Letta Mbulu to the grime 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
ABC,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Germs,
Nico,
Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Talk Talk,
Minutemen,
The United States of America,
Tommy Roe,
Wings,
Negative Approach,
Chris Corsano,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Godley & Creme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ten City,
The Raincoats,
Robert Görl,
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
Half Japanese,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Unwound,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Big Daddy Kane,
Carl Craig,
Marmalade,
Adolescents,
Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Althea and Donna,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Shuggie Otis,
Freddie Wadling,
Underground Resistance,
Pylon,
Dead Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
The Moody Blues,
The Dead C,
Joyce Sims,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.