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 Cape Verde and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Don Cherry to the rap 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Underground Resistance,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
Sister Nancy,
Nas,
Pylon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Junior Murvin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deepchord,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Skaos,
Crime,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minnie Riperton,
B.T. Express,
The Real Kids,
The Seeds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
Public Enemy,
Roxette,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
The Index,
The Victims,
Drive Like Jehu,
Audionom,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
The Happenings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Chris Corsano,
Nirvana,
Idris Muhammad,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.