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 Laos and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 Hardrive to the jazz 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Scientists,
Skarface,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
Joensuu 1685,
Radio Birdman,
Dennis Brown,
Althea and Donna,
Arcadia,
Ice-T,
Quadrant,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
Smog,
Janne Schatter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Neil Young,
The Blackbyrds,
Donny Hathaway,
Anthony Braxton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rakim,
The Move,
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultravox,
Scion,
Grey Daturas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wolf Eyes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Banda Bassotti,
ABC,
Amon Düül,
Unwound,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Judy Mowatt,
Josef K,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
China Crisis,
Archie Shepp,
Flipper,
Masters at Work,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Bar-Kays,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television Personalities,
the Swans,
Eric Copeland,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.