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 Andorra and from London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Yaz to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Red Krayola,
Stiv Bators,
Panda Bear,
Organ,
John Coltrane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blossom Toes,
Marmalade,
The Mojo Men,
The Slits,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
Kurtis Blow,
the Bar-Kays,
Television,
Stereo Dub,
Malaria!,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Idris Muhammad,
Make Up,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Isaac Hayes,
Mars,
Delta 5,
Hot Snakes,
Magazine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dave Gahan,
Con Funk Shun,
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
PIL,
Carl Craig,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Near,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
D'Angelo,
The Remains,
Metal Thangz,
KRS-One,
Alison Limerick,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tomorrow,
The United States of America,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Darondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Joyce Sims,
Lower 48,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.