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 Kenya and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vainqueur to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
Visage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
Nas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sällskapet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
48th St. Collective,
The Smoke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Halsall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jerry's Kids,
Kas Product,
Sound Behaviour,
Althea and Donna,
Adolescents,
Harmonia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Intrusion,
Ituana,
Henry Cow,
Quantec,
Shoche,
8 Eyed Spy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Slits,
ABBA,
Peter & Gordon,
Minor Threat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
ABC,
The Gladiators,
The Toasters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Popol Vuh,
John Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Fatback Band,
Max Romeo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Yazoo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Q and Not U,
The Stooges,
New York Dolls,
Country Teasers,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.