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 Singapore and from Manila.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rakim to the rap 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
MC5,
Pantytec,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Wolf Eyes,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arcadia,
Visage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
L. Decosne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nico,
Maurizio,
Intrusion,
Bauhaus,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
The Selecter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ronan,
Ossler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hasil Adkins,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Sarah Menescal,
Althea and Donna,
Surgeon,
The Divine Comedy,
Depeche Mode,
Index,
Robert Hood,
Urselle,
Au Pairs,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Leaves,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Trojans,
Alice Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rekid,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Zero Boys,
Bronski Beat,
Alison Limerick,
Eve St. Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.