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 Solomon Islands and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Moby Grape to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Human League,
Rekid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sixth Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
Slave,
Bluetip,
The New Christs,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
The Golliwogs,
Scion,
Marine Girls,
Index,
Barbara Tucker,
Pere Ubu,
The Monochrome Set,
JFA,
Deepchord,
Monks,
The Raincoats,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quando Quango,
The Blackbyrds,
Hashim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pagans,
The Angels of Light,
Grey Daturas,
KRS-One,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mantronix,
The Vogues,
Nik Kershaw,
Altered Images,
Robert Görl,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Busters,
Aural Exciters,
Bootsy Collins,
Blancmange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.