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 Afghanistan and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kerri Chandler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Reuben Wilson,
E-Dancer,
Fatback Band,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
The J.B.'s,
Alphaville,
Harmonia,
Warsaw,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Last Poets,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
The Searchers,
Rites of Spring,
Lightning Bolt,
Newcleus,
Procol Harum,
Dennis Brown,
Hashim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joyce Sims,
The Music Machine,
The Gladiators,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Tremeloes,
Amon Düül,
Goldenarms,
Tears for Fears,
Donny Hathaway,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Silicon Teens,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Wells,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Colin Newman,
The Mojo Men,
Talk Talk,
Freddie Wadling,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
Sonic Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Deepchord,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Magma,
Babytalk,
Joe Smooth,
Howard Jones,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
UT,
Barclay James Harvest,
DJ Style,
Grauzone,
L. Decosne,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.