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 Canada and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Sun City Girls to the grime 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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Idris Muhammad,
Duran Duran,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
E-Dancer,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-102,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
Essential Logic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television Personalities,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Easy Going,
Franke,
Harmonia,
Don Cherry,
Ronnie Foster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter & Gordon,
The Remains,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
World's Most,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Flag,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
The Last Poets,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Smiths,
Lungfish,
Saccharine Trust,
The Motions,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Gang Dance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.