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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Crispy Ambulance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faust,
Eli Mardock,
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nik Kershaw,
Desert Stars,
Little Man,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Piero Umiliani,
Fat Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Prince Buster,
Black Bananas,
Barry Ungar,
Kerri Chandler,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
John Foxx,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Hood,
Todd Terry,
Kas Product,
Gang Gang Dance,
Laurel Aitken,
Procol Harum,
10cc,
Hashim,
Cybotron,
KRS-One,
The Smoke,
Make Up,
Brass Construction,
The Modern Lovers,
The Star Department,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kevin Saunderson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nico,
Danielle Patucci,
Joey Negro,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Aural Exciters,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.