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 Kosovo and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the crunk 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tres Demented,
Fluxion,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones,
Delta 5,
Newcleus,
The Birthday Party,
Cecil Taylor,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxette,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
The Black Dice,
DJ Sneak,
The Neon Judgement,
The Standells,
Johnny Osbourne,
New Order,
Malaria!,
Pere Ubu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young,
Panda Bear,
Soulsonic Force,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
Metal Thangz,
John Lydon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gichy Dan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Sheep,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
Danielle Patucci,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Underground Resistance,
Andrew Hill,
Maurizio,
Bob Dylan,
E-Dancer,
Eurythmics,
Scan 7,
Altered Images,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bluetip,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.