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 South Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Severed Heads to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Flash Fearless,
La Düsseldorf,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Easy Going,
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
David Axelrod,
Qualms,
Albert Ayler,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Buckinghams,
The Five Americans,
The Trojans,
Jacques Brel,
Archie Shepp,
Thee Headcoats,
Cecil Taylor,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barry Ungar,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dark Day,
Toni Rubio,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Searchers,
The Remains,
Chrome,
Bauhaus,
Blancmange,
Wally Richardson,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fear,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smiths,
Negative Approach,
Shuggie Otis,
The Zeros,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hashim,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.