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 Andorra and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Marmalade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
H. Thieme,
The Star Department,
The Martian,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultravox,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Unwound,
The Human League,
Pierre Henry,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
Kenny Larkin,
Mo-Dettes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Inner City,
Y Pants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
Altered Images,
the Association,
Chris Corsano,
Eurythmics,
June Days,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
The Mummies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Slave,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang of Four,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faust,
Babytalk,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
The Techniques,
Skarface,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harpers Bizarre,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
R.M.O.,
Nirvana,
The Divine Comedy,
The Grass Roots,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.