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 Liechtenstein and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott Heron to the rap 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
The Alarm Clocks,
Newcleus,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Byrd,
MDC,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minny Pops,
Mark Hollis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Japan,
Johnny Clarke,
Erasure,
Peter and Kerry,
Icehouse,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
Parry Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Vainqueur,
Bobbi Humphrey,
David McCallum,
Don Cherry,
Dennis Brown,
Brothers Johnson,
The Golliwogs,
Roxy Music,
Suburban Knight,
FM Einheit,
Model 500,
Wire,
the Sonics,
Fluxion,
Josef K,
The Monks,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
Quando Quango,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pierre Henry,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Tom Boy,
In Retrospect,
The Angels of Light,
Excepter,
The Dirtbombs,
Sällskapet,
Television,
The Evens,
Babytalk,
Rod Modell,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.