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 Suriname and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 The Skatalites to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Eurythmics,
Crispy Ambulance,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Blackbyrds,
Ken Boothe,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
U.S. Maple,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Von Mondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echospace,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
Trumans Water,
Moby Grape,
The Smoke,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brass Construction,
Sun Ra,
Mandrill,
Fela Kuti,
Adolescents,
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Judy Mowatt,
Banda Bassotti,
Visage,
Radiohead,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Smog,
Swans,
The Velvet Underground,
Groovy Waters,
Funky Four + One,
Chrome,
Davy DMX,
Slick Rick,
Kenny Larkin,
Susan Cadogan,
The Searchers,
Oneida,
Animal Collective,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The United States of America,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
The Gories,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Sheep,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.