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 Zambia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Marshall Jefferson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
David Bowie,
Smog,
The Selecter,
K-Klass,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Dolphy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Sexual Harrassment,
Duran Duran,
Michelle Simonal,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Adolescents,
The Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
The Vogues,
Alton Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Negative Approach,
Hot Snakes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unwound,
Josef K,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
The Trojans,
June of 44,
Gabor Szabo,
the Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
B.T. Express,
Althea and Donna,
Black Pus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Association,
Surgeon,
Lyres,
Little Man,
Heaven 17,
Fugazi,
Black Sheep,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.