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 Burundi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Fatback Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jawbox,
Ornette Coleman,
Erykah Badu,
Iggy Pop,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Magma,
Hoover,
Todd Terry,
Josef K,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
Desert Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Blossom Toes,
the Sonics,
The Leaves,
PIL,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Moby Grape,
The Monochrome Set,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Mr. Review,
Interpol,
The Real Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roger Hodgson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.