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 Ghana and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 J.B.'s to the grunge 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fugazi,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blues Magoos,
Godley & Creme,
The Golliwogs,
the Soft Cell,
Joyce Sims,
David Bowie,
Flash Fearless,
Shoche,
The Knickerbockers,
The Evens,
Dennis Brown,
The Birthday Party,
The Fall,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Mandrill,
Jacques Brel,
Andrew Hill,
Roger Hodgson,
Tubeway Army,
Magma,
Moss Icon,
One Last Wish,
Funkadelic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dirtbombs,
Eli Mardock,
The Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Parry Music,
Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gories,
ABBA,
Babytalk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
The Divine Comedy,
Kaleidoscope,
Quadrant,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Von Mondo,
Sällskapet,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
Motorama,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.