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 Mauritania and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 The Gories to the dance 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Pretty Things,
Magazine,
Andrew Hill,
Monks,
Ossler,
X-Ray Spex,
Chrome,
Wire,
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster,
The Misunderstood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lakeside,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Ronan,
Chris Corsano,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Green,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Yazoo,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Pantytec,
Lou Christie,
Anthony Braxton,
Gichy Dan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sandy B,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
CMW,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Busters,
The Motions,
AZ,
Gabor Szabo,
Mission of Burma,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Alphaville,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.