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 Austria and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Junior Murvin to the grime 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Ultravox,
Magma,
Jacques Brel,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barbara Tucker,
Talk Talk,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
Cybotron,
Q and Not U,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
June of 44,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
The American Breed,
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Idris Muhammad,
Whodini,
Kayak,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Bowie,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Saints,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Tropical Tobacco,
DJ Style,
the Association,
Skarface,
Bad Manners,
Scion,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Don Cherry,
Eric Dolphy,
Trumans Water,
Derrick Morgan,
Minor Threat,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.