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 Brunei and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crooked Eye to the rock 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Birthday Party,
Tim Buckley,
The Gories,
Tom Boy,
Underground Resistance,
Liliput,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scion,
Crooked Eye,
Sixth Finger,
Ten City,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smiths,
Easy Going,
Jimmy McGriff,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
Colin Newman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sister Nancy,
Mark Hollis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aural Exciters,
ABC,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Los Fastidios,
World's Most,
E-Dancer,
Skaos,
Motorama,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masters at Work,
Young Marble Giants,
Altered Images,
The Skatalites,
Marine Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blake Baxter,
Niagra,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Yazoo,
Ice-T,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.