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 Ireland 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ossler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Scott Walker,
Parry Music,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Motions,
the Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Order,
DNA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roy Ayers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sexual Harrassment,
Laurel Aitken,
Radio Birdman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
Loose Ends,
Q65,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
The Move,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cameo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Count Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Model 500,
Trumans Water,
Mission of Burma,
Ultra Naté,
Barbara Tucker,
Angry Samoans,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama,
ABC,
Cluster,
Liliput,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
kango's stein massive,
Negative Approach,
Black Bananas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magma,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Christie,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.