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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Donald Fagen 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 Robert Wyatt to the jazz 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
The Invisible,
Marine Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris & Cosey,
Darondo,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange,
The Searchers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Last Poets,
kango's stein massive,
R.M.O.,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
Magazine,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
Moebius,
H. Thieme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rotary Connection,
Whodini,
Fad Gadget,
Unwound,
Interpol,
Bauhaus,
Essential Logic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Skriet,
Brick,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cure,
The Red Krayola,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang of Four,
Ultra Naté,
Adolescents,
The Saints,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
Pylon,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantytec,
Scratch Acid,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.