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 Chad and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Sam Rivers to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Faust,
Blancmange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Simply Red,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Fat Boys,
Index,
New Order,
The Moleskins,
Underground Resistance,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
The Blackbyrds,
Spandau Ballet,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Green,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gerry Rafferty,
Patti Smith,
Alphaville,
cv313,
Lou Reed,
Minnie Riperton,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Donald Byrd,
X-102,
Outsiders,
10cc,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerri Chandler,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
Icehouse,
The J.B.'s,
Maurizio,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Skriet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.