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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 New Order 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Iggy Pop,
Essential Logic,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
Sun City Girls,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare,
Bob Dylan,
James White and The Blacks,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Idris Muhammad,
Patti Smith,
Echospace,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nik Kershaw,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Q65,
10cc,
Ice-T,
Marshall Jefferson,
Animal Collective,
R.M.O.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
Slick Rick,
New Age Steppers,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
The Grass Roots,
Adolescents,
Rosa Yemen,
The Associates,
Alton Ellis,
Leonard Cohen,
Dark Day,
Stereo Dub,
Kayak,
Black Flag,
Pantytec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grey Daturas,
The Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Bill Wells,
Chris Corsano,
Skaos,
Angry Samoans,
Slave,
The Saints,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
The Busters,
Bush Tetras,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.