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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Hoover,
Cymande,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Siglo XX,
Parry Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Last Poets,
Bob Dylan,
Sixth Finger,
Organ,
Pylon,
Magma,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moleskins,
Minor Threat,
Pussy Galore,
Warsaw,
Ohio Players,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fatback Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fat Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Intrusion,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites,
Boredoms,
This Heat,
Newcleus,
The Mojo Men,
Second Layer,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grauzone,
China Crisis,
Eurythmics,
Pantaleimon,
Deepchord,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Al Stewart,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Porter Ricks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joensuu 1685,
The Modern Lovers,
Arcadia,
Nirvana,
Roxy Music,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.