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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra,
Vladislav Delay,
Qualms,
The Golliwogs,
Quantec,
Tim Buckley,
Country Teasers,
Ituana,
The Smoke,
Average White Band,
Second Layer,
Brothers Johnson,
cv313,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Womack,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronnie Foster,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Bill Wells,
Agent Orange,
Sparks,
Man Parrish,
The Selecter,
Newcleus,
Depeche Mode,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
Ohio Players,
Suicide,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
Flash Fearless,
Fugazi,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Cale,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
New Age Steppers,
Magazine,
Smog,
Lou Reed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Intrusion,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
The Sound,
The American Breed,
Bad Manners,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.