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 Oman and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Mission of Burma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Khruangbin,
Brothers Johnson,
Terry Callier,
Stiv Bators,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gerry Rafferty,
Underground Resistance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Halsall,
Theoretical Girls,
The Grass Roots,
The Techniques,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Skatalites,
Livin' Joy,
Flash Fearless,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül II,
Buzzcocks,
Minor Threat,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moebius,
Aswad,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soft Machine,
Visage,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Mojo Men,
Neu!,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
The Star Department,
Ronnie Foster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Von Mondo,
World's Most,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Spandau Ballet,
Delta 5,
Severed Heads,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.