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 Gabon and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the jazz 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Man Parrish,
Maurizio,
Hardrive,
Fela Kuti,
Minnie Riperton,
LL Cool J,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cheater Slicks,
Warren Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Funky Four + One,
Sugar Minott,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Count Five,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Tim Buckley,
The Divine Comedy,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
The Martian,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dirtbombs,
Arthur Verocai,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
The Beau Brummels,
Lakeside,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Marmalade,
Pylon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Talk Talk,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lebanon Hanover,
Groovy Waters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang On A Can,
The Mummies,
Camouflage,
Oneida,
Kayak,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Lyres,
Ultimate Spinach,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Durutti Column,
The Invisible,
Iggy Pop,
Scrapy,
Motorama,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.