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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
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 harpsichord 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 Lyres to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
the Germs,
Minutemen,
Eurythmics,
Hot Snakes,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
The Invisible,
Blossom Toes,
Kaleidoscope,
Organ,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Byrd,
Nirvana,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Althea and Donna,
The Trojans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Half Japanese,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smiths,
Dark Day,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
Negative Approach,
Black Moon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
Bauhaus,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
Essential Logic,
Arab on Radar,
Pole,
Heaven 17,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lyres,
The Gladiators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.