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 Lesotho and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Toni Rubio 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
Mantronix,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Donny Hathaway,
Steve Hackett,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Amazonics,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
Cymande,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Andrew Hill,
Heaven 17,
Shuggie Otis,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Gabor Szabo,
Index,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
Lindisfarne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Accadde A,
Q65,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neu!,
Oneida,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Severed Heads,
Reuben Wilson,
Leonard Cohen,
La Düsseldorf,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Babytalk,
Pere Ubu,
The Dead C,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Average White Band,
Cal Tjader,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yellowson,
Talk Talk,
Sun City Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wings,
Urselle,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.