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 Uganda and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Clarke to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Schoolly D,
Electric Prunes,
Nirvana,
The Names,
The Grass Roots,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Hill,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Albert Ayler,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Raincoats,
The Zeros,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Crooked Eye,
Brick,
Black Pus,
Television,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed,
The American Breed,
kango's stein massive,
Stiv Bators,
Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Avey Tare,
Section 25,
Babytalk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lungfish,
Motorama,
Altered Images,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
The Offenders,
The Mojo Men,
Con Funk Shun,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.