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 Mali and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Matthew Bourne to the electroclash 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Qualms,
The Doors,
Porter Ricks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Negative Approach,
Albert Ayler,
Ten City,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Foxx,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Starr,
The Toasters,
Sixth Finger,
Country Teasers,
Grauzone,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pussy Galore,
Pagans,
The Music Machine,
This Heat,
The Monks,
Ornette Coleman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scientists,
Heaven 17,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wolf Eyes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arthur Verocai,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
The Martian,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Roger Hodgson,
MC5,
Sarah Menescal,
Young Marble Giants,
Lower 48,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
The Five Americans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.