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 Kuwait and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Cure to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Delta 5,
Arab on Radar,
Spoonie Gee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Schoolly D,
Thee Headcoats,
the Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Kerri Chandler,
Aloha Tigers,
Popol Vuh,
Tres Demented,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
Massinfluence,
Derrick May,
Oblivians,
June Days,
the Germs,
Alphaville,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiohead,
Das Ding,
Camberwell Now,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
Siglo XX,
Metal Thangz,
Minor Threat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bush Tetras,
Cal Tjader,
The Slits,
Howard Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
The Happenings,
Niagra,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
Interpol,
H. Thieme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
D'Angelo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Agitation Free,
The Residents,
the Association,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
the Normal,
The Seeds,
Albert Ayler,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.