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 Dominican Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fela Kuti to the electroclash 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Womack,
The Kinks,
Radio Birdman,
Monolake,
Fear,
Khruangbin,
The Monks,
X-101,
The Music Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hasil Adkins,
Sight & Sound,
The Gap Band,
Popol Vuh,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sound,
Japan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Barry Ungar,
Black Sheep,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
F. McDonald,
Jeff Mills,
The Vogues,
kango's stein massive,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
Pole,
Supertramp,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Black Flag,
Donny Hathaway,
EPMD,
OOIOO,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
Pylon,
The Doors,
the Association,
E-Dancer,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Terry,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.