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 East Timor and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 The Beau Brummels to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
The Skatalites,
The Fugs,
Tears for Fears,
Can,
the Bar-Kays,
The Associates,
Eric Copeland,
The Doors,
Thompson Twins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Cale,
Second Layer,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Hood,
David Axelrod,
The Dead C,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Marmalade,
Slick Rick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
Echospace,
Hashim,
The Victims,
DJ Sneak,
D'Angelo,
Black Moon,
Rakim,
Little Man,
Althea and Donna,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
The Litter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joe Finger,
Scrapy,
The Offenders,
Wings,
Au Pairs,
Dawn Penn,
The Gladiators,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Byrd,
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
The Grass Roots,
Pet Shop Boys,
Buzzcocks,
The Remains,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh,
Yellowson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.