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 Malta and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Index,
Goldenarms,
Zero Boys,
Inner City,
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Schoolly D,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Kaleidoscope,
Shuggie Otis,
Duran Duran,
Connie Case,
MC5,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cameo,
Graham Central Station,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DNA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blancmange,
Fela Kuti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxy Music,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Max Romeo,
Michelle Simonal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joensuu 1685,
the Normal,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Green,
Kayak,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Henry Cow,
Monolake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
10cc,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.