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 Belize and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Ronan,
The Remains,
Terry Callier,
Cal Tjader,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Duran Duran,
U.S. Maple,
The Gladiators,
T.S.O.L.,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
Eurythmics,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
The Leaves,
Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
PIL,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Halsall,
Moebius,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
The Neon Judgement,
Crash Course in Science,
The Real Kids,
David McCallum,
The Count Five,
The Cowsills,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
Magazine,
Pierre Henry,
The Last Poets,
Glenn Branca,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hardrive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moby Grape,
Faust,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.