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 Ethiopia and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Surgeon to the disco 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Albert Ayler,
The Fire Engines,
Royal Trux,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Echospace,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
The Neon Judgement,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Donny Hathaway,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Symarip,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül,
Scrapy,
Dark Day,
Simply Red,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Half Japanese,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Durutti Column,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Chris Corsano,
Guru Guru,
Zapp,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.