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 Comoros and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Alice Coltrane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
T.S.O.L.,
Erasure,
Scrapy,
Minutemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Arcadia,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cowsills,
K-Klass,
Drexciya,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Organ,
Minny Pops,
the Human League,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blackbyrds,
X-102,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
The Golliwogs,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Christie,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
Au Pairs,
Little Man,
cv313,
Masters at Work,
Nick Fraelich,
Todd Terry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Wyatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Todd Rundgren,
Avey Tare,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
Erykah Badu,
Eden Ahbez,
The Associates,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monks,
The Seeds,
Simply Red,
The Angels of Light,
Procol Harum,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.