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 Argentina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Aloha Tigers,
Blossom Toes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Moby Grape,
Glenn Branca,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rod Modell,
Pierre Henry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lower 48,
Tropical Tobacco,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
The Searchers,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
Idris Muhammad,
Accadde A,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
Chrome,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boredoms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Last Poets,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Halsall,
Oblivians,
Andrew Hill,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Divine Comedy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Danielle Patucci,
Radiohead,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange,
Scott Walker,
Japan,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.