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 Eritrea and from Delhi.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bill Wells to the rap 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
MDC,
The Moody Blues,
Depeche Mode,
Bush Tetras,
Vainqueur,
UT,
Erasure,
Rites of Spring,
Ornette Coleman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Second Layer,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
Interpol,
Public Enemy,
Maurizio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Crooked Eye,
John Holt,
The Invisible,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
Organ,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rapeman,
New Order,
Bobby Womack,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
cv313,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Finger,
Gang Starr,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joe Smooth,
OOIOO,
Hashim,
Nils Olav,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.