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 Egypt and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rap 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
Index,
Chris Corsano,
KRS-One,
The Sonics,
The Searchers,
Camberwell Now,
Pagans,
Trumans Water,
Eli Mardock,
Lindisfarne,
Scion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Martian,
Eric Copeland,
The Dirtbombs,
Deepchord,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arcadia,
AZ,
Ronnie Foster,
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Terry,
The Residents,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantaleimon,
Lightning Bolt,
Warren Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
Sister Nancy,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Howard Jones,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Wire,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
Jeff Mills,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Leonard Cohen,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
Hoover,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Second Layer,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.