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 Oman 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Searchers to the grunge 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultravox,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
Flash Fearless,
Cal Tjader,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Cameo,
The Real Kids,
Peter & Gordon,
The Residents,
Desert Stars,
Black Sheep,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sonic Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Mission of Burma,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
Urselle,
Harmonia,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Near,
Excepter,
Pantaleimon,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Darondo,
A Certain Ratio,
Shuggie Otis,
Toni Rubio,
Terry Callier,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slackers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
Erykah Badu,
Essential Logic,
CMW,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
Scratch Acid,
Kas Product,
Bad Manners,
Guru Guru,
Motorama,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marshall Jefferson,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.