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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Drexciya,
Joey Negro,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
The Angels of Light,
The Mummies,
John Foxx,
Chris & Cosey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Prince Buster,
Thee Headcoats,
Rites of Spring,
Inner City,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Von Mondo,
Idris Muhammad,
The Neon Judgement,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Desert Stars,
Mad Mike,
Rapeman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Andrew Hill,
Josef K,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Slits,
Skarface,
Franke,
X-Ray Spex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chrome,
Faraquet,
Joe Finger,
The Red Krayola,
The Associates,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
The Happenings,
The Techniques,
Charles Mingus,
Bob Dylan,
Roxette,
Al Stewart,
PIL,
Mandrill,
Main Source,
The Busters,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.