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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the jazz 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Wake,
Groovy Waters,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Womack,
Fluxion,
Danielle Patucci,
Smog,
David Axelrod,
Nils Olav,
Todd Rundgren,
Yellowson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fugs,
the Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Second Layer,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Sixth Finger,
The Fortunes,
The Angels of Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Associates,
Infiniti,
Terry Callier,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Maleditus Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
Moebius,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Peter & Gordon,
The Victims,
The Music Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Delta 5,
Joey Negro,
Intrusion,
Scratch Acid,
X-Ray Spex,
Boredoms,
Davy DMX,
Zero Boys,
Ice-T,
DNA,
Hardrive,
Archie Shepp,
Gichy Dan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Duran Duran,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Count Five,
Electric Prunes,
the Germs,
Prince Buster,
Stiv Bators,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.