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 Suriname and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Five Americans,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
The United States of America,
Moebius,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barry Ungar,
Fat Boys,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
Index,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Nirvana,
Grauzone,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sight & Sound,
Loose Ends,
Second Layer,
Procol Harum,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aural Exciters,
Niagra,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
the Human League,
Newcleus,
Television,
Organ,
Johnny Osbourne,
Underground Resistance,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MC5,
Shoche,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
One Last Wish,
Flipper,
Negative Approach,
Anthony Braxton,
The Wake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.