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 United States and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 A Certain Ratio to the electroclash 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
Echospace,
Alton Ellis,
Black Flag,
The Doors,
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
The Star Department,
The Blues Magoos,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Bobby Byrd,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Swans,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
Porter Ricks,
Liliput,
Eric Dolphy,
Mark Hollis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aswad,
Cheater Slicks,
Excepter,
FM Einheit,
Depeche Mode,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
Laurel Aitken,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
Wally Richardson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Smog,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
10cc,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Raincoats,
Quadrant,
Sixth Finger,
the Soft Cell,
Quantec,
Jesper Dahlback,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Bill Near,
Matthew Halsall,
Gerry Rafferty,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Deakin,
Joey Negro,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.