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 Uganda and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Gong to the jazz 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass 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 grunge 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Khruangbin,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blancmange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nico,
Rosa Yemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Judy Mowatt,
Sixth Finger,
The United States of America,
Warren Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Dawn Penn,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Sound,
the Swans,
Derrick May,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Smiths,
The Seeds,
The Wake,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott Heron,
New York Dolls,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Gabor Szabo,
Michelle Simonal,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
Soft Cell,
Quadrant,
June Days,
Kayak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Darondo,
The Misunderstood,
The Toasters,
Metal Thangz,
The Techniques,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.