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 Italy and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Pagans 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cameo,
Lindisfarne,
Guru Guru,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
Radiohead,
Groovy Waters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Barrington Levy,
The Skatalites,
Young Marble Giants,
Deadbeat,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
UT,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Los Fastidios,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
The Toasters,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mummies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Silicon Teens,
Wally Richardson,
Scion,
Slave,
Magazine,
Ice-T,
Siglo XX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Moon,
Drexciya,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blues Magoos,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra,
The Gories,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gun Club,
The Zeros,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
The Index,
Jacob Miller,
Drive Like Jehu,
JFA,
Symarip,
Moby Grape,
Hardrive,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.