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 Bahamas and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David McCallum to the techno 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
Popol Vuh,
Delta 5,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy Collins,
the Association,
The Offenders,
The Pretty Things,
Dennis Brown,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
FM Einheit,
Scrapy,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Lyres,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cameo,
Rekid,
Agent Orange,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
This Heat,
DJ Style,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
Camouflage,
The Gories,
Quadrant,
The Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Beau Brummels,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker,
Sight & Sound,
Excepter,
Minor Threat,
Warsaw,
Don Cherry,
Echospace,
Quando Quango,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Moon,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.