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 Thailand and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Ohio Players to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fat Boys,
The Last Poets,
Warsaw,
The Grass Roots,
Arthur Verocai,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
New Order,
Nas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tubeway Army,
Pussy Galore,
Max Romeo,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav,
The Monochrome Set,
Arab on Radar,
Freddie Wadling,
Hardrive,
The Selecter,
Franke,
CMW,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantytec,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Görl,
Erykah Badu,
Buzzcocks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fugs,
Babytalk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Whodini,
Scan 7,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Colin Newman,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Gap Band,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.