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 Singapore and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb 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 Neil Young 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
U.S. Maple,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Oblivians,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Stiv Bators,
Grauzone,
Radiohead,
Soulsonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Yaz,
Henry Cow,
Kurtis Blow,
Tim Buckley,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
Rekid,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxy Music,
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
Mandrill,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Joyce Sims,
Fugazi,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Lydon,
Parry Music,
The Offenders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donald Byrd,
Bang On A Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultravox,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
Sam Rivers,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mars,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.