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 South Sudan and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
John Foxx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vainqueur,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
Radio Birdman,
Archie Shepp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boredoms,
Siglo XX,
Eric Dolphy,
Mandrill,
Reagan Youth,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro,
Oblivians,
Sixth Finger,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Subhumans,
the Germs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bad Manners,
Soul II Soul,
Procol Harum,
Minnie Riperton,
Aloha Tigers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantaleimon,
James White and The Blacks,
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
Camberwell Now,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Theoretical Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Yazoo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brass Construction,
Pagans,
The Human League,
Minutemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Adolescents,
Sister Nancy,
The United States of America,
Swans,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deakin,
Q65,
B.T. Express,
Eurythmics,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
T. Rex,
Be Bop Deluxe,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.