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 Mozambique and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Slackers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
The Blues Magoos,
Severed Heads,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
Yazoo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Residents,
John Lydon,
Second Layer,
Aloha Tigers,
Bush Tetras,
Skarface,
Section 25,
Livin' Joy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Average White Band,
Anakelly,
The Stooges,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
AZ,
Letta Mbulu,
Brick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
The Invisible,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fortunes,
The Gap Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Symarip,
John Coltrane,
The Slits,
Warsaw,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deadbeat,
The Cramps,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yellowson,
Essential Logic,
Barrington Levy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.