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 Germany and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Neon Judgement to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Toni Rubio,
the Slits,
Bluetip,
Scion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sugar Minott,
The Durutti Column,
Chrome,
The Happenings,
Buzzcocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Ultra Naté,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
kango's stein massive,
The Birthday Party,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
The Remains,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Y Pants,
The Victims,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minnie Riperton,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Tom Boy,
Charles Mingus,
Pulsallama,
R.M.O.,
Erykah Badu,
Jandek,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Parrish,
The Fugs,
Chris & Cosey,
Unwound,
The Martian,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Average White Band,
Gang Starr,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
Ronnie Foster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.