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 Algeria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Archie Shepp,
the Bar-Kays,
Shuggie Otis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
One Last Wish,
Bootsy Collins,
Michelle Simonal,
Scion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grauzone,
The American Breed,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Ronnie Foster,
Graham Central Station,
Jandek,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
L. Decosne,
Television Personalities,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Techniques,
Slave,
Faust,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Swell Maps,
John Cale,
a-ha,
Scientists,
Little Man,
Monks,
Make Up,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Prince Buster,
Amazonics,
Lungfish,
Amon Düül,
Lebanon Hanover,
Godley & Creme,
Deadbeat,
Amon Düül II,
Main Source,
Black Bananas,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacob Miller,
Sonic Youth,
The Dead C,
Visage,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.