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 Kazakhstan 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Mojo Men,
Scion,
Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
X-101,
Alice Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fela Kuti,
Magma,
Chrome,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacob Miller,
JFA,
Quadrant,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Wyatt,
Q and Not U,
E-Dancer,
Groovy Waters,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arab on Radar,
The Zeros,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun City Girls,
Agent Orange,
Thee Headcoats,
Steve Hackett,
Godley & Creme,
Charles Mingus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Intrusion,
Bootsy Collins,
Symarip,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Enemy,
Black Sheep,
Colin Newman,
Kas Product,
Basic Channel,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
The Raincoats,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiohead,
In Retrospect,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.