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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar 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 Flesh Eaters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Laurel Aitken,
Connie Case,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
The Blackbyrds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New Order,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Ten City,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers,
Pulsallama,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
Roxette,
Tres Demented,
Pussy Galore,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Khruangbin,
The Litter,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Fela Kuti,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
Faraquet,
The Black Dice,
Swans,
Pylon,
David Axelrod,
Make Up,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fall,
B.T. Express,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
The Tremeloes,
Davy DMX,
Glenn Branca,
LL Cool J,
The Toasters,
Quantec,
The Victims,
Be Bop Deluxe,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantytec,
Theoretical Girls,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.