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 Benin and from London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül II,
The Victims,
Hashim,
Brass Construction,
The Count Five,
MC5,
The Shadows of Knight,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
Yusef Lateef,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joy Division,
Aural Exciters,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Vogues,
The Fire Engines,
Dave Gahan,
The Golliwogs,
The Electric Prunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Anthony Braxton,
Cymande,
Radio Birdman,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Almond,
Kurtis Blow,
Glenn Branca,
The Techniques,
Marmalade,
Pylon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Piero Umiliani,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Qualms,
The Last Poets,
Underground Resistance,
Technova,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ossler,
Clear Light,
The Raincoats,
Hoover,
10cc,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
Joe Finger,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suicide,
Bobby Womack,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.