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 Czech Republic and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Beau Brummels,
Donald Byrd,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
Letta Mbulu,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
Bill Near,
Cluster,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dark Day,
The Young Rascals,
Joensuu 1685,
Boogie Down Productions,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
The Star Department,
A Certain Ratio,
Darondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalo Schifrin,
Agitation Free,
Yusef Lateef,
Steve Hackett,
Judy Mowatt,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Negative Approach,
Al Stewart,
Japan,
The Velvet Underground,
Amazonics,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Barbara Tucker,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra,
Kayak,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lakeside,
Metal Thangz,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
World's Most,
Lou Reed,
The Offenders,
Cymande,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.