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 Macedonia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the jazz 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Malaria!,
Harmonia,
Negative Approach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
R.M.O.,
the Bar-Kays,
Susan Cadogan,
Lakeside,
the Human League,
June of 44,
Essential Logic,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Boredoms,
Chris & Cosey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Pus,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Joyce Sims,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang On A Can,
The Wake,
Bob Dylan,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
Excepter,
The Victims,
Blossom Toes,
Ossler,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Blake Baxter,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
The Real Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
Intrusion,
Eden Ahbez,
Electric Prunes,
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
June Days,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
Au Pairs,
Connie Case,
The Leaves,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
Gang Gang Dance,
Morten Harket,
MDC,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.