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 Sweden and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar 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 Q65 to the electroclash 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
The Divine Comedy,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-101,
Aswad,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agitation Free,
Sparks,
Mars,
Suburban Knight,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
A Certain Ratio,
Intrusion,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
F. McDonald,
Parry Music,
Quando Quango,
K-Klass,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Spoonie Gee,
June Days,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Barrington Levy,
The United States of America,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultra Naté,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monks,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Trumans Water,
The American Breed,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tres Demented,
Interpol,
Clear Light,
Sugar Minott,
Black Flag,
DJ Sneak,
Flipper,
EPMD,
June of 44,
the Slits,
Marc Almond,
Faraquet,
Glenn Branca,
Aaron Thompson,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.