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 Poland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 AZ to the rock 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Kerri Chandler,
Funky Four + One,
Nik Kershaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
Trumans Water,
The Gladiators,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
Warren Ellis,
The Busters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
Aaron Thompson,
Fatback Band,
Bad Manners,
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Peter and Kerry,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
Con Funk Shun,
R.M.O.,
Terry Callier,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
Iggy Pop,
Grey Daturas,
The Litter,
Smog,
New Age Steppers,
David Bowie,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
Crooked Eye,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
The Pop Group,
Babytalk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ice-T,
Spandau Ballet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers,
The Cramps,
Arthur Verocai,
Gabor Szabo,
the Association,
The Young Rascals,
Rakim,
Susan Cadogan,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.