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 and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 grime 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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Royal Trux,
Porter Ricks,
Sparks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Alarm Clocks,
Niagra,
ABBA,
Gabor Szabo,
Scan 7,
Hot Snakes,
Janne Schatter,
Slick Rick,
Quando Quango,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
KRS-One,
Spoonie Gee,
Radiohead,
Infiniti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Piero Umiliani,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nirvana,
Minnie Riperton,
Ituana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Rotary Connection,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Average White Band,
Deepchord,
John Holt,
MDC,
Susan Cadogan,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rites of Spring,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Severed Heads,
The Victims,
Q65,
Thompson Twins,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.