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 Syria and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jesper Dahlback to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Clear Light,
Organ,
Yusef Lateef,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare,
The Zeros,
Talk Talk,
Harmonia,
PIL,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Roxy Music,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Josef K,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Liliput,
These Immortal Souls,
The Offenders,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ornette Coleman,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
Los Fastidios,
Skaos,
The Doobie Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
The Fuzztones,
The Star Department,
Little Man,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Gang Dance,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
Smog,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Don Cherry,
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Con Funk Shun,
Monolake,
Cluster,
World's Most,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.