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 Namibia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sarah Menescal to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Little Man,
Mandrill,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hardrive,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Danielle Patucci,
Sister Nancy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tim Buckley,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Standells,
The Litter,
Thompson Twins,
Tom Boy,
Nils Olav,
Stetsasonic,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Urselle,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantytec,
Chris Corsano,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
Infiniti,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Fat Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Circle Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Derrick Morgan,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Hill,
Davy DMX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Pantaleimon,
Nirvana,
The Names,
The Cowsills,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultravox,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Howard Jones,
Scan 7,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.