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 Chad and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
the Soft Cell,
CMW,
Aloha Tigers,
Deadbeat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pierre Henry,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
Whodini,
Stockholm Monsters,
MDC,
The Seeds,
Derrick Morgan,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Sheep,
Excepter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fear,
Erykah Badu,
Brothers Johnson,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spoonie Gee,
The Star Department,
Liliput,
K-Klass,
Lou Christie,
Arcadia,
Tubeway Army,
June of 44,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cymande,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Thee Headcoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Moby Grape,
Bang On A Can,
Quando Quango,
Ludus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glenn Branca,
Todd Terry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dead C,
Sonic Youth,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Bobby Womack,
Organ,
Brass Construction,
The Tremeloes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fad Gadget,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.