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 Swaziland and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
The Busters,
Flash Fearless,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Style,
The Real Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
Black Flag,
The Fortunes,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
Howard Jones,
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Associates,
Sex Pistols,
Fatback Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Rites of Spring,
The Selecter,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Wyatt,
ABC,
Tears for Fears,
Bronski Beat,
Oneida,
The Residents,
Outsiders,
Organ,
Circle Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
The Zeros,
X-101,
Banda Bassotti,
Mr. Review,
Bluetip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skaos,
Bob Dylan,
Derrick May,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.