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 Niger and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Clear Light to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Outsiders,
Cameo,
The Human League,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New York Dolls,
Reuben Wilson,
Deepchord,
Popol Vuh,
The Evens,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultravox,
U.S. Maple,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lakeside,
Heaven 17,
Marmalade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deakin,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Tres Demented,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Magma,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
Yusef Lateef,
The American Breed,
Anthony Braxton,
Joe Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Connie Case,
Robert Wyatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
the Germs,
Massinfluence,
Malaria!,
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yazoo,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Sneak,
The Smoke,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Supertramp,
Second Layer,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.