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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 The Last Poets to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Freddie Wadling,
Kas Product,
Pagans,
Stetsasonic,
Tim Buckley,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Fad Gadget,
Pulsallama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
The Busters,
Negative Approach,
Brand Nubian,
The Pop Group,
Crash Course in Science,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blancmange,
Dennis Brown,
Jawbox,
OOIOO,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Normal,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Arthur Verocai,
Moby Grape,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül II,
Mark Hollis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masters at Work,
Royal Trux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Bowie,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Colin Newman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang On A Can,
Bootsy Collins,
Audionom,
Newcleus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camberwell Now,
New Order,
Aural Exciters,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Invisible,
The Fugs,
Fear,
The Cure,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.