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 Ireland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 The Music Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cowsills,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Jawbox,
Brothers Johnson,
James White and The Blacks,
Oneida,
Niagra,
Lindisfarne,
Agitation Free,
Man Parrish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chris Corsano,
the Slits,
The Sound,
Q and Not U,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grauzone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Terry,
Gichy Dan,
Bob Dylan,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Bananas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eddi Front,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cure,
Black Moon,
Depeche Mode,
It's A Beautiful Day,
MDC,
Flipper,
Fatback Band,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flash Fearless,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
a-ha,
Shoche,
cv313,
Yusef Lateef,
Wire,
Little Man,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rufus Thomas,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.