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 Sweden and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
The Blackbyrds,
Sandy B,
The Gap Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Motorama,
OOIOO,
Sugar Minott,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
H. Thieme,
Marmalade,
Blancmange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Neu!,
Soft Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dead Boys,
The Associates,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Agent Orange,
Pagans,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Minor Threat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Neil Young,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Animal Collective,
Accadde A,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skarface,
Pussy Galore,
Sun City Girls,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.