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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Blackbyrds to the punk 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman,
The Gladiators,
Jandek,
Man Parrish,
Scion,
Ponytail,
Eli Mardock,
Junior Murvin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marine Girls,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye,
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Clear Light,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David Axelrod,
Minnie Riperton,
Laurel Aitken,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
Alison Limerick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camouflage,
Das Ding,
The Fuzztones,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Althea and Donna,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
Marc Almond,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Isaac Hayes,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
DJ Style,
Howard Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Evens,
Ohio Players,
Nico,
Deepchord,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Move,
Adolescents,
Fluxion,
Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.