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 Czech Republic and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
The Raincoats,
Black Sheep,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bootsy Collins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Banda Bassotti,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Fugazi,
Parry Music,
FM Einheit,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mandrill,
Camouflage,
Todd Terry,
Soft Machine,
The Trojans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eurythmics,
Faraquet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed,
The Count Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Neu!,
Scrapy,
Average White Band,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gong,
X-102,
New Order,
The Flesh Eaters,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Arab on Radar,
Oblivians,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Guru Guru,
Desert Stars,
Cal Tjader,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
The Leaves,
Albert Ayler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxette,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sight & Sound,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.