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 Panama and from Spokane.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Amon Düül II to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Youth Brigade,
The Busters,
June Days,
Magazine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Guru Guru,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare,
T. Rex,
Wally Richardson,
Scratch Acid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Hardrive,
The Cure,
The Fire Engines,
Crash Course in Science,
The Doors,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gichy Dan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aural Exciters,
Underground Resistance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
MC5,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacob Miller,
Eve St. Jones,
PIL,
Cluster,
Black Moon,
Albert Ayler,
Quando Quango,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott Heron,
Adolescents,
Soulsonic Force,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Real Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
LL Cool J,
Malaria!,
Lyres,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
Radio Birdman,
Section 25,
Wings,
H. Thieme,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.