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 Suriname and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Ponytail to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Underground Resistance,
Swans,
ABBA,
Sight & Sound,
Little Man,
MC5,
Whodini,
The Trojans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Slits,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Clarke,
The Index,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nirvana,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Steve Hackett,
June Days,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxy Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
The Standells,
China Crisis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Organ,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Half Japanese,
The American Breed,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Buzzcocks,
Chrome,
Joey Negro,
Bronski Beat,
The Mojo Men,
Kool Moe Dee,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Todd Terry,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lower 48,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul II Soul,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.