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 Tunisia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Colin Newman to the grunge 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Associates,
Ronan,
Susan Cadogan,
Blossom Toes,
Byron Stingily,
Massinfluence,
Henry Cow,
Au Pairs,
Gichy Dan,
Desert Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alice Coltrane,
Blancmange,
Aloha Tigers,
Boredoms,
Bauhaus,
Chrome,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
Vladislav Delay,
Hasil Adkins,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Anakelly,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kaleidoscope,
Hashim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pagans,
the Association,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Loose Ends,
CMW,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rosa Yemen,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Fad Gadget,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Germs,
Patti Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispy Ambulance,
Icehouse,
Arab on Radar,
China Crisis,
Saccharine Trust,
The Motions,
PIL,
The Angels of Light,
Drexciya,
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
Simply Red,
John Lydon,
OOIOO,
Blake Baxter,
Jimmy McGriff,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.