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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Mumbai.
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 Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Brand Nubian to the grime 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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
Lucky Dragons,
Colin Newman,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Offenders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
OOIOO,
Bootsy Collins,
KRS-One,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drexciya,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monolake,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
Shoche,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jawbox,
PIL,
Outsiders,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Pus,
Half Japanese,
R.M.O.,
Motorama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Whodini,
D'Angelo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Grauzone,
Television,
Maleditus Sound,
The Saints,
New Order,
Yazoo,
The Birthday Party,
Groovy Waters,
The Angels of Light,
Hot Snakes,
Max Romeo,
The Vogues,
Vladislav Delay,
Warren Ellis,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.