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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swans,
Maurizio,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dual Sessions,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Near,
Arab on Radar,
DJ Sneak,
Flash Fearless,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Essential Logic,
Bad Manners,
The Remains,
10cc,
Brass Construction,
Ornette Coleman,
Interpol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
Fat Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Moss Icon,
Isaac Hayes,
Laurel Aitken,
Amazonics,
Los Fastidios,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Bootsy Collins,
OOIOO,
John Lydon,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Germs,
Thompson Twins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Dark Day,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
The Grass Roots,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sight & Sound,
The Victims,
Warren Ellis,
Mad Mike,
MC5,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.