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 Guatemala and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Real Kids to the grunge 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Saints,
Das Ding,
Con Funk Shun,
Ponytail,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
Alphaville,
Black Flag,
Sun Ra,
Boz Scaggs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
The United States of America,
Panda Bear,
The Gap Band,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
Godley & Creme,
Suburban Knight,
Second Layer,
Liliput,
Hasil Adkins,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
Dennis Brown,
X-Ray Spex,
Max Romeo,
Oneida,
Cluster,
The J.B.'s,
June of 44,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blancmange,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
Sixth Finger,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Motions,
Steve Hackett,
Popol Vuh,
Fat Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Heaven 17,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crime,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.