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 Belarus and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Flag to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Chrome,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Qualms,
Mars,
The Cowsills,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantytec,
The Zeros,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Derrick May,
The Black Dice,
Man Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cymande,
Accadde A,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
Quando Quango,
Boz Scaggs,
La Düsseldorf,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
48th St. Collective,
The Sonics,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
Whodini,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Japan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sex Pistols,
Jeru the Damaja,
Erasure,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kas Product,
Supertramp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.