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 Tuvalu and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 48th St. Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun Ra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
T.S.O.L.,
the Slits,
The Fugs,
The Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
The Neon Judgement,
The Golliwogs,
Skaos,
The Count Five,
DNA,
Joe Smooth,
Magazine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Animal Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cure,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fatback Band,
Das Ding,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
Godley & Creme,
Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Whodini,
Bob Dylan,
Sandy B,
Aaron Thompson,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe,
Index,
Unwound,
Khruangbin,
Barrington Levy,
X-102,
David Axelrod,
The Standells,
Audionom,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Martian,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.