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 Bulgaria and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Oneida,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Desert Stars,
Goldenarms,
The United States of America,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
Main Source,
the Swans,
Whodini,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
Jeff Mills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deadbeat,
Delta 5,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warren Ellis,
Sarah Menescal,
Sixth Finger,
The Smiths,
Swans,
Infiniti,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
the Human League,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fire Engines,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
Faust,
La Düsseldorf,
Marmalade,
The Birthday Party,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
Michelle Simonal,
AZ,
The Young Rascals,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Average White Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Darondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Don Cherry,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed,
Mary Jane Girls,
CMW,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Foxx,
The Sonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.