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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Section 25,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Ten City,
Dennis Brown,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
Adolescents,
Rites of Spring,
Bush Tetras,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
Con Funk Shun,
Chris & Cosey,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Liliput,
The Doors,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Scientists,
Accadde A,
Quadrant,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
Barbara Tucker,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Slave,
Make Up,
Tom Boy,
Groovy Waters,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythm & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blossom Toes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Panda Bear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Lydon,
The Golliwogs,
Chrome,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
cv313,
Tim Buckley,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.