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 Spain and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 the Swans to the crunk 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Oneida,
Minnie Riperton,
Fad Gadget,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ludus,
The Skatalites,
Minor Threat,
Cybotron,
Outsiders,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
Janne Schatter,
Bang On A Can,
Supertramp,
John Foxx,
Nick Fraelich,
Kenny Larkin,
Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cymande,
Chrome,
L. Decosne,
Moby Grape,
Graham Central Station,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
Tears for Fears,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
X-102,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cheater Slicks,
Essential Logic,
Public Enemy,
Kayak,
Charles Mingus,
Adolescents,
Lalann,
Dave Gahan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Black Sheep,
Half Japanese,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.