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 Saudi Arabia and from New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Max Romeo to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone,
Laurel Aitken,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Stiv Bators,
Minor Threat,
Scott Walker,
Lalann,
The Gladiators,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Görl,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Warsaw,
Shoche,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
Young Marble Giants,
Yellowson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
The Human League,
Delta 5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
E-Dancer,
Harmonia,
Fad Gadget,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nico,
Unrelated Segments,
Fatback Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lakeside,
Althea and Donna,
Charles Mingus,
Organ,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
Monks,
Mandrill,
Chrome,
Jeff Lynne,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
The Selecter,
a-ha,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mars,
Camouflage,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.