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 Albania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Byrd,
Sun Ra,
The Fortunes,
Intrusion,
Darondo,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
Lakeside,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aaron Thompson,
Mantronix,
The Red Krayola,
Goldenarms,
Young Marble Giants,
Eddi Front,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
The Velvet Underground,
Scrapy,
Gichy Dan,
Little Man,
Technova,
The Motions,
Icehouse,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Green,
Hot Snakes,
The Residents,
Black Pus,
A Certain Ratio,
Pussy Galore,
Sight & Sound,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Livin' Joy,
Letta Mbulu,
Donny Hathaway,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Style,
In Retrospect,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Jeff Lynne,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.