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 Andorra and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Prince Buster to the rap 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry's Kids,
Loose Ends,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Underground Resistance,
Neu!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors,
The Busters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mars,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heaven 17,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Japan,
Sandy B,
Wolf Eyes,
Skarface,
Bauhaus,
Lightning Bolt,
Essential Logic,
Clear Light,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Birthday Party,
Sun Ra,
John Coltrane,
The Trojans,
Laurel Aitken,
Gabor Szabo,
The Pop Group,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
China Crisis,
Soft Machine,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
The Last Poets,
Schoolly D,
Don Cherry,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
Dark Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
Nas,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Cell,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pylon,
Severed Heads,
Barbara Tucker,
Ken Boothe,
Mission of Burma,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.