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 Cameroon and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The United States of America to the rap 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
AZ,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Remains,
Josef K,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Neu!,
Whodini,
The Mojo Men,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Rod Modell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
La Düsseldorf,
Organ,
Robert Wyatt,
Prince Buster,
Funkadelic,
Graham Central Station,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wolf Eyes,
Yazoo,
Section 25,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Sheep,
kango's stein massive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Mills,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
Lou Christie,
Toni Rubio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cymande,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultravox,
Rekid,
Maleditus Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Zero Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Cale,
Mandrill,
Quando Quango,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.