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 Tunisia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer 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 Motorama to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
China Crisis,
Yusef Lateef,
The Music Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Interpol,
The Walker Brothers,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
The Associates,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gong,
Thee Headcoats,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
D'Angelo,
Mandrill,
Quantec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Foxx,
Matthew Bourne,
Scan 7,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Angry Samoans,
A Certain Ratio,
Saccharine Trust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
Neu!,
Guru Guru,
Hardrive,
New Age Steppers,
Donald Byrd,
K-Klass,
In Retrospect,
The Buckinghams,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Raincoats,
Trumans Water,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sound Behaviour,
Ken Boothe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
Slave,
the Normal,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.