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 Hungary and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Birthday Party to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
Harpers Bizarre,
Quantec,
MC5,
Radio Birdman,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
John Coltrane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ken Boothe,
Byron Stingily,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
Pet Shop Boys,
Severed Heads,
Cecil Taylor,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cheater Slicks,
T.S.O.L.,
Lakeside,
Soul Sonic Force,
Darondo,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cramps,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moss Icon,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Dark Day,
Ultra Naté,
Maurizio,
The Cure,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Flag,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker,
Urselle,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Liliput,
The Busters,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
The Kinks,
The Smiths,
Jacques Brel,
New Order,
Man Eating Sloth,
World's Most,
Ice-T,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.