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 Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 The Toasters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Mad Mike,
E-Dancer,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Talk Talk,
Rosa Yemen,
EPMD,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Zeros,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Names,
Jacob Miller,
Camouflage,
The Tremeloes,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
Gang Green,
Kerri Chandler,
Pussy Galore,
Lalann,
The Doors,
Little Man,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Q and Not U,
Mars,
This Heat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Morten Harket,
Mantronix,
Visage,
The Golliwogs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
L. Decosne,
Josef K,
The Moleskins,
Al Stewart,
La Düsseldorf,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare,
Icehouse,
Monks,
June of 44,
Black Bananas,
Pantaleimon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-101,
Ultravox,
Stiv Bators,
The Evens,
The Smoke,
Black Moon,
Fela Kuti,
Deakin,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.