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 Antigua and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Public Enemy to the techno 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Arcadia,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
OOIOO,
L. Decosne,
Eric Dolphy,
Marmalade,
Bush Tetras,
Brass Construction,
Excepter,
Oneida,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brick,
Pantytec,
The Names,
The Birthday Party,
The Standells,
The Raincoats,
The Pretty Things,
New York Dolls,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pylon,
AZ,
June of 44,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker,
Metal Thangz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quando Quango,
The Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Sherman,
Sandy B,
Interpol,
Mars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Public Enemy,
Barry Ungar,
the Germs,
The Fortunes,
Intrusion,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
Alison Limerick,
Moby Grape,
Sexual Harrassment,
EPMD,
Tres Demented,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
The Gladiators,
Chris & Cosey,
Derrick Morgan,
the Human League,
Bang On A Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Arthur Verocai,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.