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 United States and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scion to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Aswad,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sight & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Connie Case,
Scan 7,
The Count Five,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
In Retrospect,
Oblivians,
Model 500,
The Selecter,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Intrusion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul Sonic Force,
Motorama,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gong,
Skaos,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
The Fuzztones,
Piero Umiliani,
Gabor Szabo,
Byron Stingily,
Nico,
Sparks,
Thompson Twins,
the Association,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bush Tetras,
Mary Jane Girls,
Slave,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
The Misunderstood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fugazi,
Sällskapet,
Arcadia,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grey Daturas,
John Coltrane,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.