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 Kosovo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Howard Jones to the punk 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Youth Brigade,
T. Rex,
The Smoke,
Mark Hollis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms,
The Dead C,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Freddie Wadling,
Altered Images,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl,
Arcadia,
the Fania All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
The Velvet Underground,
Goldenarms,
the Bar-Kays,
Inner City,
The Mojo Men,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Suicide,
MDC,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minnie Riperton,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Television,
K-Klass,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
Ken Boothe,
The United States of America,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cluster,
Main Source,
The Move,
Ronnie Foster,
Boredoms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Young Rascals,
Easy Going,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.