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 Barbados and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Skatalites to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hardrive,
The Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Chrome,
Lyres,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dead Boys,
the Association,
Lucky Dragons,
Joy Division,
Radiopuhelimet,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Enemy,
Rapeman,
Barrington Levy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
Mark Hollis,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Brick,
Desert Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
The Young Rascals,
David Axelrod,
Malaria!,
Eric Copeland,
Spandau Ballet,
L. Decosne,
Colin Newman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Shadows of Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Music Machine,
Underground Resistance,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pylon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
CMW,
Erykah Badu,
Soul II Soul,
Oneida,
The Dirtbombs,
Youth Brigade,
Motorama,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.