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 Qatar and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Smiths 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dual Sessions,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Selecter,
Danielle Patucci,
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Golliwogs,
Camouflage,
The Litter,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
Black Sheep,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Supertramp,
Alphaville,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
The Names,
John Foxx,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
Cybotron,
June Days,
Silicon Teens,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Sherman,
Slave,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Drexciya,
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
Clear Light,
Fad Gadget,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Connie Case,
Japan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
KRS-One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.