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 San Marino and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Swell Maps,
The Pretty Things,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet,
Basic Channel,
Wings,
The Durutti Column,
Drive Like Jehu,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pierre Henry,
Half Japanese,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
Moss Icon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Last Poets,
Crooked Eye,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Connie Case,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Faraquet,
Donny Hathaway,
The Modern Lovers,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Absolute Body Control,
Procol Harum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The New Christs,
Pole,
Brass Construction,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Bauhaus,
Janne Schatter,
Popol Vuh,
Desert Stars,
Gong,
Josef K,
Black Sheep,
The J.B.'s,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suburban Knight,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays,
Tomorrow,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.