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 Angola and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Funky Four + One to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Grey Daturas,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Wells,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Shuggie Otis,
Spandau Ballet,
Cybotron,
Maleditus Sound,
Godley & Creme,
The Sound,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Infiniti,
Dead Boys,
Mantronix,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flipper,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Porter Ricks,
Public Enemy,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Kinks,
Ludus,
R.M.O.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pylon,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Hood,
The Five Americans,
Laurel Aitken,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Certain Ratio,
One Last Wish,
The Leaves,
Mark Hollis,
Joy Division,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mandrill,
Rekid,
Graham Central Station,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.