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 Belgium and from Manila.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sarah Menescal to the grime 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Erykah Badu,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
The Dead C,
John Cale,
Electric Light Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
June of 44,
cv313,
Dorothy Ashby,
Althea and Donna,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
Arcadia,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cluster,
Agitation Free,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Axelrod,
Chris Corsano,
Sixth Finger,
Magazine,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
Soft Cell,
Derrick May,
Adolescents,
Joe Finger,
Das Ding,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sonic Youth,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erasure,
Lindisfarne,
Spandau Ballet,
Skriet,
Charles Mingus,
David Bowie,
The Leaves,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
In Retrospect,
The Techniques,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Gong,
The Human League,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.