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 Paraguay and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Adolescents to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
The Fall,
The Remains,
Funkadelic,
Rhythm & Sound,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rapeman,
Tom Boy,
Television Personalities,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Techniques,
T. Rex,
Oblivians,
Ten City,
Kenny Larkin,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fuzztones,
Scion,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
Liliput,
Mandrill,
The Happenings,
Ornette Coleman,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
Siglo XX,
Connie Case,
Masters at Work,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dave Gahan,
Franke,
Nico,
Tears for Fears,
Skaos,
The Smoke,
Technova,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Stiv Bators,
Kayak,
Shuggie Otis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Red Krayola,
June of 44,
Maurizio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ossler,
The Victims,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.