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 San Marino and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arab on Radar to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
the Association,
Drexciya,
Interpol,
Half Japanese,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quando Quango,
Dead Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Fear,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Move,
Franke,
Bootsy Collins,
Soulsonic Force,
Unrelated Segments,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
Moss Icon,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kas Product,
AZ,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
The Zeros,
Funkadelic,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oblivians,
Newcleus,
Malaria!,
The Golliwogs,
Blossom Toes,
Public Enemy,
The Index,
Alton Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
David Axelrod,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
Donald Byrd,
Panda Bear,
John Lydon,
Wally Richardson,
Scrapy,
Nick Fraelich,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.