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 Korea North and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 Charles Mingus to the techno 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pantytec,
Subhumans,
The Leaves,
UT,
Crime,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül,
Boz Scaggs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cymande,
Mantronix,
Procol Harum,
Chrome,
Dawn Penn,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
The Angels of Light,
Donny Hathaway,
Fugazi,
Television Personalities,
Pierre Henry,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yusef Lateef,
David Bowie,
Q and Not U,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cal Tjader,
48th St. Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
The Litter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
Boredoms,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cowsills,
Eden Ahbez,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.