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 Kuwait and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Danielle Patucci to the grime 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Bang On A Can,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-Ray Spex,
Colin Newman,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
UT,
Pylon,
Harmonia,
Neu!,
Easy Going,
The Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deadbeat,
Aaron Thompson,
Bad Manners,
Hardrive,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Knickerbockers,
Motorama,
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Ronan,
B.T. Express,
Davy DMX,
Lee Hazlewood,
Slave,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
The Blackbyrds,
FM Einheit,
Hot Snakes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
David McCallum,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Johnny Clarke,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marine Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
Ten City,
Hoover,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.