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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Public Enemy,
Nico,
Interpol,
The Misunderstood,
The Fuzztones,
New York Dolls,
Joe Smooth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rites of Spring,
Hoover,
Aswad,
Heaven 17,
Schoolly D,
Ronan,
the Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nirvana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Echospace,
Gong,
Babytalk,
kango's stein massive,
Essential Logic,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Nick Fraelich,
Pole,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glenn Branca,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
The Evens,
The Skatalites,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dirtbombs,
A Certain Ratio,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes,
Au Pairs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultravox,
David Axelrod,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerri Chandler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
EPMD,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.