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 Romania and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harry Pussy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Ken Boothe,
Donny Hathaway,
Main Source,
Peter & Gordon,
Zero Boys,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Banda Bassotti,
Young Marble Giants,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
Bush Tetras,
Reagan Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B,
Charles Mingus,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Tres Demented,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Wake,
Magma,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Almond,
Eric Copeland,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mars,
Bobby Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Amazonics,
Rites of Spring,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gories,
PIL,
Tom Boy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
The Kinks,
Matthew Bourne,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
Blossom Toes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Audionom,
Television,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.