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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Scan 7 to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nirvana,
The Kinks,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dennis Brown,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
Dawn Penn,
The Associates,
Colin Newman,
The Names,
Derrick Morgan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Second Layer,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hoover,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Chrome,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zero Boys,
MC5,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Prince Buster,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
Idris Muhammad,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
Mary Jane Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
June of 44,
Dave Gahan,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Max Romeo,
Cymande,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Toni Rubio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
In Retrospect,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.