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 Egypt and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grime 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Busters,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Newcleus,
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gap Band,
Gang of Four,
Subhumans,
The Golliwogs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
Suicide,
The Techniques,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Womack,
Basic Channel,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scratch Acid,
Rosa Yemen,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
The Invisible,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Nas,
D'Angelo,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
Unwound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hardrive,
Adolescents,
Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moody Blues,
The Wake,
The Count Five,
June Days,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Inner City,
Pylon,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lakeside,
Sound Behaviour,
Echospace,
Donny Hathaway,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.