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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Flipper to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Monochrome Set,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Selecter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
Scientists,
Eric Copeland,
The Wake,
The United States of America,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Y Pants,
Pylon,
Swell Maps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
Iggy Pop,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
The Sound,
Black Sheep,
the Germs,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slave,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Leonard Cohen,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Connie Case,
The Neon Judgement,
The Barracudas,
Altered Images,
Ice-T,
Pantytec,
Anthony Braxton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fortunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Yazoo,
The Toasters,
Hardrive,
The Durutti Column,
Johnny Clarke,
Organ,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.