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 Tehran.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Bourne to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Lou Christie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
Tom Boy,
The Dead C,
Saccharine Trust,
The Count Five,
Sonic Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Clear Light,
The J.B.'s,
Lindisfarne,
Anthony Braxton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Young Rascals,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott Heron,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Von Mondo,
Steve Hackett,
Kurtis Blow,
Second Layer,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Vogues,
Robert Hood,
John Foxx,
Animal Collective,
Lyres,
Pole,
PIL,
Derrick May,
Rapeman,
The Smoke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hasil Adkins,
E-Dancer,
Morten Harket,
Con Funk Shun,
Wings,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Rod Modell,
Scott Walker,
Circle Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
Erykah Badu,
Archie Shepp,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
Scientists,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lalann,
Bronski Beat,
Crash Course in Science,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.