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 Guyana and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord 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 Los Fastidios to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin 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?
R.M.O.,
Average White Band,
Moby Grape,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
World's Most,
Anthony Braxton,
Tears for Fears,
Ponytail,
Sonny Sharrock,
UT,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Dual Sessions,
The Blues Magoos,
Clear Light,
Sonic Youth,
Darondo,
Joy Division,
Hasil Adkins,
Letta Mbulu,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rotary Connection,
Animal Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
Siglo XX,
Jandek,
Vladislav Delay,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Pus,
Dead Boys,
Soulsonic Force,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dave Gahan,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Joe Smooth,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Rundgren,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Whodini,
Alphaville,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Monks,
Nirvana,
Roxy Music,
Grey Daturas,
Yusef Lateef,
Los Fastidios,
Arab on Radar,
Althea and Donna,
Guru Guru,
Nation of Ulysses,
Morten Harket,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.