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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Marcia Griffiths to the electroclash 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
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,
Liliput,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Groovy Waters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Normal,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Desert Stars,
The Doors,
Unwound,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
Sex Pistols,
Alice Coltrane,
Zapp,
Kaleidoscope,
Hashim,
UT,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Essential Logic,
Sister Nancy,
Skriet,
Matthew Halsall,
The Busters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Niagra,
Brass Construction,
Eden Ahbez,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joensuu 1685,
Quantec,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Erykah Badu,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Susan Cadogan,
Sandy B,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton,
Erasure,
Arab on Radar,
Stetsasonic,
Piero Umiliani,
Fela Kuti,
Siglo XX,
Grey Daturas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jandek,
Ossler,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.