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 Japan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobby Womack to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Second Layer,
Skarface,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warsaw,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
Crooked Eye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang On A Can,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mr. Review,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
The Associates,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fat Boys,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
Ken Boothe,
Todd Rundgren,
Cal Tjader,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
48th St. Collective,
Interpol,
Y Pants,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Nirvana,
KRS-One,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pierre Henry,
Skriet,
Rotary Connection,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U,
Surgeon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blackbyrds,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Cymande,
Depeche Mode,
Easy Going,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blues Magoos,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Gong,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.