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 Ivory Coast and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 Donald Byrd 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Mars,
June of 44,
Eric Copeland,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Martian,
Goldenarms,
The Associates,
The Monochrome Set,
Arcadia,
Gang Gang Dance,
E-Dancer,
Mantronix,
John Foxx,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
Los Fastidios,
Blake Baxter,
Terry Callier,
Make Up,
Ultimate Spinach,
Interpol,
Easy Going,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
The Buckinghams,
Soul II Soul,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cure,
In Retrospect,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
The Angels of Light,
Q and Not U,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiohead,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet,
Scan 7,
Public Enemy,
Brand Nubian,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Vladislav Delay,
Television Personalities,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Procol Harum,
Cymande,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
Wasted Youth,
X-102,
kango's stein massive,
Chris Corsano,
Hoover,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.