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 Malta and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sonics to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Todd Terry,
Sam Rivers,
Eve St. Jones,
Malaria!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
Siglo XX,
Lucky Dragons,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Neon Judgement,
Wings,
The Gories,
Grauzone,
Alice Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yaz,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick Morgan,
Zero Boys,
Wasted Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
Nirvana,
Pagans,
The Techniques,
Connie Case,
Animal Collective,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cowsills,
Throbbing Gristle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lee Hazlewood,
Organ,
Robert Wyatt,
Fela Kuti,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Hood,
The Zeros,
Bobby Womack,
Eric Copeland,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Chris & Cosey,
Terry Callier,
Pylon,
Amon Düül,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Yellowson,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
The Slackers,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.