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 Cameroon and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the rap 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '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 Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Slick Rick,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lalann,
The Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Sound Behaviour,
Alphaville,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sparks,
Khruangbin,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
10cc,
The Music Machine,
June Days,
Crime,
The Cramps,
JFA,
Bootsy Collins,
Underground Resistance,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
The Gories,
Half Japanese,
The Buckinghams,
Trumans Water,
Anakelly,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DNA,
X-102,
E-Dancer,
Bill Wells,
Marcia Griffiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Sonics,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.