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 East Timor and from Bologna.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Technova to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
David McCallum,
Mo-Dettes,
The Kinks,
Banda Bassotti,
Das Ding,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Iggy Pop,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monolake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Moody Blues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
John Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
John Foxx,
Jimmy McGriff,
Negative Approach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Goldenarms,
K-Klass,
Fluxion,
Unrelated Segments,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
CMW,
Marc Almond,
The Seeds,
Derrick May,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABBA,
The Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delta 5,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Thompson Twins,
Panda Bear,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Alphaville,
Echospace,
Guru Guru,
Q65,
Kaleidoscope,
Organ,
Flash Fearless,
Clear Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Lebanon Hanover,
David Bowie,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.