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 Liberia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Flipper to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
The Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Al Stewart,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
Cecil Taylor,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Glambeats Corp.,
Von Mondo,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
Qualms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
MC5,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fuzztones,
ABBA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Make Up,
Trumans Water,
Youth Brigade,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
Flash Fearless,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Maleditus Sound,
MDC,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
The Birthday Party,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
Brick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang Green,
Unwound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Talk Talk,
Todd Terry,
H. Thieme,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.