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 Kosovo and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boredoms to the funk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Crispian St. Peters,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
Half Japanese,
PIL,
Black Flag,
Danielle Patucci,
48th St. Collective,
Agent Orange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zero Boys,
Brass Construction,
Warren Ellis,
Black Pus,
The Moody Blues,
The Fall,
Ossler,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
Wings,
Archie Shepp,
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Excepter,
Whodini,
DJ Style,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
KRS-One,
Deakin,
Grauzone,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
Gregory Isaacs,
Qualms,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
X-101,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Jimmy McGriff,
These Immortal Souls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arthur Verocai,
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
Ronnie Foster,
Underground Resistance,
The Gories,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.