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 Manchester.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ronan,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mojo Men,
the Sonics,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Darondo,
Ice-T,
Malaria!,
Fad Gadget,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Cecil Taylor,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Association,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
Howard Jones,
Mark Hollis,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Faraquet,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Hood,
the Slits,
L. Decosne,
Drive Like Jehu,
Little Man,
Dead Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joy Division,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.