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 Gambia and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Mojo Men to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
Arthur Verocai,
A Certain Ratio,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
The Searchers,
Audionom,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Golliwogs,
Chris Corsano,
Chris & Cosey,
The Misunderstood,
Sight & Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
The Slackers,
Thee Headcoats,
Sister Nancy,
The Litter,
Japan,
Y Pants,
Joy Division,
Grey Daturas,
Anakelly,
Albert Ayler,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Leaves,
MDC,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
The Human League,
Maurizio,
Quantec,
Ultimate Spinach,
Animal Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Rufus Thomas,
Depeche Mode,
Alice Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Nils Olav,
Spoonie Gee,
Moss Icon,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.