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 Uzbekistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Vainqueur,
Second Layer,
The Gladiators,
Unwound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
Rosa Yemen,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Count Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Faust,
R.M.O.,
JFA,
John Foxx,
Todd Terry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Leaves,
Colin Newman,
Can,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dennis Brown,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Neu!,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
The Index,
The Kinks,
X-Ray Spex,
Index,
Moby Grape,
The Red Krayola,
Boredoms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Anakelly,
Dual Sessions,
The Zeros,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Spandau Ballet,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.