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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Severed Heads,
Lalo Schifrin,
Qualms,
Buzzcocks,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket,
Janne Schatter,
Kenny Larkin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Liliput,
Unwound,
Isaac Hayes,
Faraquet,
Neu!,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Machine,
CMW,
Bob Dylan,
Au Pairs,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pantytec,
cv313,
Lyres,
Moss Icon,
Zapp,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
MC5,
Idris Muhammad,
Moby Grape,
Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Almond,
Dual Sessions,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rites of Spring,
The New Christs,
EPMD,
Shoche,
Supertramp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boogie Down Productions,
Quando Quango,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
John Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Piero Umiliani,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Byron Stingily,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.