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 Bolivia and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James White and The Blacks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Inner City,
Ludus,
Warren Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Saints,
Darondo,
Banda Bassotti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Main Source,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quadrant,
Wolf Eyes,
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz,
Reuben Wilson,
Rufus Thomas,
Amazonics,
David Bowie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Leonard Cohen,
Hardrive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
The Invisible,
The Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Intrusion,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Make Up,
Ten City,
The Fall,
Y Pants,
Shuggie Otis,
Urselle,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Youth Brigade,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boz Scaggs,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
Angry Samoans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.