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 Chad and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Idris Muhammad to the rock 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Josef K,
The Doors,
KRS-One,
the Association,
The Mummies,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Crime,
Subhumans,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Inner City,
Yazoo,
The Litter,
The Stooges,
Gong,
Al Stewart,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moleskins,
Judy Mowatt,
Maurizio,
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gun Club,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
The Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
Main Source,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Altered Images,
Stereo Dub,
The Skatalites,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Khruangbin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Procol Harum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
Scan 7,
Bill Near,
Visage,
Barrington Levy,
Henry Cow,
cv313,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Enemy,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dual Sessions,
The Move,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.