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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the dance 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
MDC,
The Pretty Things,
Man Parrish,
Toni Rubio,
Marine Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Lalann,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
Sex Pistols,
Subhumans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ponytail,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Modern Lovers,
New Order,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slits,
FM Einheit,
Arcadia,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ice-T,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Barracudas,
Davy DMX,
Bob Dylan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
Ralphi Rosario,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker,
Black Flag,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Remains,
Freddie Wadling,
The Slackers,
Connie Case,
Mars,
Morten Harket,
Ituana,
Audionom,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Average White Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neu!,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.