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 Algeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Aural Exciters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
Spandau Ballet,
The Motions,
Nik Kershaw,
Amazonics,
The Leaves,
The Buckinghams,
B.T. Express,
Soulsonic Force,
MDC,
kango's stein massive,
Donald Byrd,
Bluetip,
Unwound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joey Negro,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cymande,
Country Teasers,
Rapeman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amon Düül,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Audionom,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
L. Decosne,
World's Most,
Groovy Waters,
Interpol,
Y Pants,
Lou Christie,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Animal Collective,
Gong,
Sight & Sound,
Dark Day,
The Kinks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yaz,
Faust,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.