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 Turkmenistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Misunderstood to the crunk 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Technova,
Grauzone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moebius,
The Music Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Near,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
Sun Ra,
Agitation Free,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Infiniti,
Metal Thangz,
F. McDonald,
Robert Hood,
Y Pants,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
Swans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nik Kershaw,
The Red Krayola,
The J.B.'s,
Simply Red,
Quadrant,
Joe Smooth,
The Mummies,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Slits,
Outsiders,
Howard Jones,
The Raincoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swell Maps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marine Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Arthur Verocai,
Stereo Dub,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
Ronnie Foster,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
Schoolly D,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Fraelich,
Joy Division,
Sixth Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maurizio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.