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 Botswana and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in 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 Pantytec to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Buckinghams,
Panda Bear,
Unwound,
Eden Ahbez,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Moebius,
Ossler,
Barry Ungar,
Khruangbin,
Swell Maps,
Tubeway Army,
The Residents,
The Selecter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Evens,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
Rosa Yemen,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gladiators,
John Lydon,
The Pop Group,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Organ,
Jerry's Kids,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Style,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Byron Stingily,
Cecil Taylor,
the Sonics,
Flash Fearless,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Moleskins,
Tears for Fears,
Fatback Band,
The Zeros,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.