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 Taiwan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Searchers to the jazz 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
The Neon Judgement,
New York Dolls,
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
Tom Boy,
The Red Krayola,
E-Dancer,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tubeway Army,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
The Fugs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DJ Style,
Brothers Johnson,
Mo-Dettes,
The J.B.'s,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yusef Lateef,
Johnny Clarke,
John Holt,
New Order,
Clear Light,
Easy Going,
Kas Product,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Wally Richardson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wings,
Malaria!,
Yaz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Residents,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sex Pistols,
Gabor Szabo,
R.M.O.,
Zapp,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Kaleidoscope,
Public Enemy,
Groovy Waters,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.