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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Scott Walker to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Gang of Four,
Kerrie Biddell,
Qualms,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxette,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pop Group,
The Wake,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Cell,
Robert Hood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
Eric Copeland,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Underground Resistance,
Darondo,
Minnie Riperton,
MDC,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Bananas,
Peter & Gordon,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
DNA,
The United States of America,
Ice-T,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brass Construction,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
The Offenders,
Infiniti,
Metal Thangz,
Laurel Aitken,
Khruangbin,
Audionom,
Pole,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alison Limerick,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sound,
Thompson Twins,
Yellowson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.