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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Toni Rubio to the crunk 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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mr. Review,
Cheater Slicks,
Cal Tjader,
Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül,
Wasted Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Kurtis Blow,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Boredoms,
Absolute Body Control,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Remains,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Sonics,
Black Pus,
Tropical Tobacco,
AZ,
Judy Mowatt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sugar Minott,
KRS-One,
Terry Callier,
Outsiders,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Main Source,
Nas,
Make Up,
Neil Young,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arcadia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lower 48,
Quadrant,
La Düsseldorf,
Con Funk Shun,
Scientists,
The Kinks,
Lightning Bolt,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.