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 Croatia and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Residents to the jazz 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC,
The Residents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Average White Band,
Von Mondo,
Country Teasers,
Kerri Chandler,
OOIOO,
The American Breed,
Ultra Naté,
Neu!,
Monks,
The Fall,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Slits,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Searchers,
Eve St. Jones,
Cal Tjader,
Quadrant,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Organ,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
Davy DMX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Iggy Pop,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Q65,
The Doobie Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
The Red Krayola,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Talk Talk,
Barry Ungar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aaron Thompson,
Patti Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande,
June of 44,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
PIL,
H. Thieme,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Moon,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.