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 Finland and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Todd Terry,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vladislav Delay,
Little Man,
Black Sheep,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lee Hazlewood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grauzone,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kurtis Blow,
The Young Rascals,
Stiv Bators,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The United States of America,
kango's stein massive,
Donald Byrd,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
F. McDonald,
Eurythmics,
Jawbox,
Soft Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Almond,
The Invisible,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
Technova,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül,
Stereo Dub,
The Five Americans,
Mr. Review,
Whodini,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
These Immortal Souls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pole,
Subhumans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
the Sonics,
Lower 48,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.