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 South Africa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Green,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hardrive,
Rotary Connection,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dennis Brown,
The United States of America,
Anthony Braxton,
Organ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Franke,
Lalo Schifrin,
F. McDonald,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Dave Gahan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Quando Quango,
Fela Kuti,
Underground Resistance,
LL Cool J,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scan 7,
Nico,
Depeche Mode,
the Association,
The Motions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Panda Bear,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Cymande,
Alison Limerick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Silicon Teens,
Scion,
Black Flag,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rod Modell,
Flipper,
Goldenarms,
The Kinks,
Erykah Badu,
Public Enemy,
John Holt,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.