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 Mongolia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Lindisfarne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gichy Dan,
The Human League,
Young Marble Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Brand Nubian,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pierre Henry,
June of 44,
Underground Resistance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Green,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monolake,
World's Most,
The Dirtbombs,
Soulsonic Force,
Shoche,
Arcadia,
The Leaves,
ABBA,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
Desert Stars,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Selecter,
The Mummies,
Livin' Joy,
Peter and Kerry,
Drive Like Jehu,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Laurel Aitken,
Minutemen,
10cc,
JFA,
Scion,
Duran Duran,
Pagans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxette,
Joy Division,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
Aaron Thompson,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.