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 Slovenia and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Barry Ungar to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 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 Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Kurtis Blow,
Simply Red,
Panda Bear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mark Hollis,
John Cale,
Das Ding,
Warren Ellis,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
Thee Headcoats,
Procol Harum,
The Five Americans,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Sherman,
Boredoms,
Chrome,
The Music Machine,
Lyres,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pierre Henry,
Minor Threat,
Tom Boy,
Sight & Sound,
Section 25,
a-ha,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Drexciya,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grey Daturas,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q and Not U,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Newcleus,
Blake Baxter,
World's Most,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Tommy Roe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Magazine,
Prince Buster,
Urselle,
Sound Behaviour,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.