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 Barbados and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camouflage 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Hoover,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Interpol,
B.T. Express,
Nas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Evens,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
DNA,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
H. Thieme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Essential Logic,
Lightning Bolt,
Rotary Connection,
Bush Tetras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mission of Burma,
Lalann,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cowsills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Litter,
The Fall,
MC5,
Aswad,
Matthew Halsall,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Byrd,
Fugazi,
Khruangbin,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
10cc,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
Royal Trux,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Josef K,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crime,
Kerri Chandler,
Rites of Spring,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
UT,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.