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 Tajikistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Frankie Knuckles to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
Loose Ends,
FM Einheit,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vainqueur,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
Don Cherry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Gories,
EPMD,
the Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fluxion,
Mantronix,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
The Slits,
Josef K,
Panda Bear,
Joe Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Jeff Lynne,
Howard Jones,
The Modern Lovers,
Terry Callier,
Spoonie Gee,
Cybotron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Dolphy,
Can,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Fatback Band,
The Smiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brothers Johnson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Metal Thangz,
the Slits,
Siglo XX,
Smog,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.