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 Turkey and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 The Searchers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick May,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
Marine Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Lou Christie,
Main Source,
Aural Exciters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
Interpol,
Rufus Thomas,
Spandau Ballet,
Scratch Acid,
The Neon Judgement,
Eden Ahbez,
Bronski Beat,
The Motions,
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Michelle Simonal,
DNA,
Blancmange,
The Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Deakin,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yusef Lateef,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Soulsonic Force,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Near,
Ultra Naté,
The Flesh Eaters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.