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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Amon Düül to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Machine,
Terry Callier,
The Blues Magoos,
Accadde A,
The Seeds,
Warsaw,
AZ,
Hashim,
Graham Central Station,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Section 25,
10cc,
Pylon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Moody Blues,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gun Club,
Sarah Menescal,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tim Buckley,
Leonard Cohen,
D'Angelo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Peter & Gordon,
Hoover,
cv313,
The Slits,
Camberwell Now,
T. Rex,
Dead Boys,
The Grass Roots,
X-101,
Clear Light,
Scratch Acid,
Magazine,
Lakeside,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pole,
Dorothy Ashby,
Niagra,
Quando Quango,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.