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 San Marino and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 The Shadows of Knight to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gladiators,
Pierre Henry,
Hasil Adkins,
Eric Copeland,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Angels of Light,
Junior Murvin,
Roger Hodgson,
The Kinks,
The Happenings,
Audionom,
Ultra Naté,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Negative Approach,
The Barracudas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
The Star Department,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Liliput,
The Last Poets,
Gabor Szabo,
Hot Snakes,
China Crisis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Alton Ellis,
Shoche,
Scott Walker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cramps,
Yaz,
Robert Hood,
Moebius,
Cal Tjader,
Loose Ends,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oblivians,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Move,
The Monks,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Technova,
LL Cool J,
Brick,
Mark Hollis,
Curtis Mayfield,
ABBA,
Wire,
Boredoms,
The Doobie Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.