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 South Sudan and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Shadows of Knight to the crunk 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
10cc,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monolake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Cameo,
Dawn Penn,
Leonard Cohen,
Jeff Lynne,
Lungfish,
Wings,
The Residents,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
Connie Case,
Neu!,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
Can,
LL Cool J,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
The Standells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scion,
Alice Coltrane,
The Selecter,
The Grass Roots,
Flash Fearless,
Ken Boothe,
Cheater Slicks,
Todd Terry,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barrington Levy,
cv313,
Juan Atkins,
The Star Department,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echospace,
Brick,
Loose Ends,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps,
MC5,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.