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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Fire Engines to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
The Barracudas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-Ray Spex,
Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deepchord,
Max Romeo,
The Searchers,
Trumans Water,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
Letta Mbulu,
Oneida,
Spandau Ballet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Shoche,
The Modern Lovers,
Das Ding,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oblivians,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Velvet Underground,
LL Cool J,
Man Eating Sloth,
Organ,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Babytalk,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
Bill Near,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
Sällskapet,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
The Sonics,
MDC,
The Angels of Light,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crooked Eye,
Joensuu 1685,
Make Up,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
Model 500,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.