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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Radio Birdman to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Lightning Bolt,
The Toasters,
Kayak,
Tomorrow,
the Slits,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
Monolake,
Quando Quango,
Swell Maps,
The Smiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
China Crisis,
Arab on Radar,
Gabor Szabo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Inner City,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Barracudas,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
The Remains,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Scientists,
The Offenders,
Section 25,
Cecil Taylor,
UT,
Davy DMX,
The Cowsills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Icehouse,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
LL Cool J,
The Fugs,
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green,
Althea and Donna,
Joensuu 1685,
Yazoo,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.