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 Djibouti and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Mark Hollis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Matthew Bourne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
Scratch Acid,
Amon Düül II,
Ronan,
Sun Ra,
Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
Panda Bear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
Nas,
Blancmange,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Donald Byrd,
The Moleskins,
Desert Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wire,
Sällskapet,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
The Kinks,
X-Ray Spex,
K-Klass,
Soul II Soul,
Janne Schatter,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Steve Hackett,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cramps,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arab on Radar,
Agitation Free,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pole,
Black Flag,
Underground Resistance,
Symarip,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Germs,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.