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 Armenia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 The Shadows of Knight 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Q65,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
The Alarm Clocks,
Basic Channel,
The Stooges,
The Gap Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Halsall,
Gabor Szabo,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
Monks,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moebius,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fatback Band,
D'Angelo,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy Collins,
Urselle,
Bad Manners,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Popol Vuh,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Goldenarms,
cv313,
Oblivians,
the Normal,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Second Layer,
L. Decosne,
Howard Jones,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Cale,
Skarface,
Vladislav Delay,
Khruangbin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.