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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Black Dice to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
H. Thieme,
The New Christs,
ABC,
Aural Exciters,
The Slackers,
Gang Starr,
Lakeside,
Ludus,
Graham Central Station,
Nas,
Alice Coltrane,
Henry Cow,
the Bar-Kays,
Godley & Creme,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rekid,
Newcleus,
Thee Headcoats,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare,
Idris Muhammad,
Suburban Knight,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eli Mardock,
Altered Images,
Wire,
Roger Hodgson,
Stetsasonic,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agitation Free,
Chris Corsano,
R.M.O.,
Mission of Burma,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oblivians,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crime,
The Litter,
Rod Modell,
Dave Gahan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
The Happenings,
EPMD,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.