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 Djibouti and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Altered Images to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Simply Red,
Suicide,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
Robert Wyatt,
The Music Machine,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agent Orange,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
The Cowsills,
Severed Heads,
Cameo,
Camberwell Now,
Gabor Szabo,
Oneida,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blossom Toes,
Aswad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Japan,
Symarip,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
Visage,
Ultravox,
Franke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy Collins,
Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arab on Radar,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Index,
Quando Quango,
Pylon,
Schoolly D,
Los Fastidios,
Kas Product,
One Last Wish,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The J.B.'s,
Joensuu 1685,
Jandek,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex,
The Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.