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 Finland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin 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 U.S. Maple to the grime 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Warren Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Marine Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
The Trojans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Underground Resistance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Zero Boys,
Youth Brigade,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Sandy B,
Dorothy Ashby,
Urselle,
Ohio Players,
Skriet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Maleditus Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
Au Pairs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aaron Thompson,
Newcleus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Modern Lovers,
The Associates,
The Music Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Depeche Mode,
The Smoke,
Minnie Riperton,
John Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
Al Stewart,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.