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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Alison Limerick to the dance 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Section 25,
Throbbing Gristle,
Easy Going,
Dawn Penn,
Masters at Work,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
JFA,
Fugazi,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joey Negro,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skaos,
The Smiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-101,
Fluxion,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alison Limerick,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
Mandrill,
Subhumans,
Suburban Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Metal Thangz,
DJ Style,
Popol Vuh,
The Sonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Offenders,
Monks,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
The Moleskins,
Erykah Badu,
Josef K,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
The Selecter,
Pierre Henry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Association,
John Holt,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.