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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the funk 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits 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?
Procol Harum,
the Germs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
CMW,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
Gong,
Gang Starr,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Josef K,
Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Trumans Water,
Camouflage,
Grauzone,
The Walker Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
The United States of America,
Susan Cadogan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ken Boothe,
Judy Mowatt,
The Durutti Column,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Bourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Harmonia,
The American Breed,
Nick Fraelich,
La Düsseldorf,
Swans,
Eddi Front,
Carl Craig,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Japan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Von Mondo,
Wolf Eyes,
The Litter,
Reagan Youth,
Aswad,
Brand Nubian,
Davy DMX,
48th St. Collective,
The Mummies,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.