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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stockholm Monsters to the techno 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Parry Music,
Kaleidoscope,
the Normal,
Guru Guru,
New York Dolls,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Buckinghams,
the Association,
Derrick Morgan,
Lucky Dragons,
Barrington Levy,
The Invisible,
Faraquet,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
X-102,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
The Blackbyrds,
Aural Exciters,
OOIOO,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joey Negro,
Sound Behaviour,
Crime,
Roxette,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Model 500,
Joe Smooth,
Marmalade,
Cameo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Marshall Jefferson,
Khruangbin,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Patti Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Royal Trux,
Malaria!,
Freddie Wadling,
Funkadelic,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Selecter,
Pulsallama,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.