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 Malawi and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Zero Boys to the grime 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Sparks,
Carl Craig,
Y Pants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scrapy,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Saccharine Trust,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Josef K,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
The Busters,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Stereo Dub,
X-102,
the Association,
Prince Buster,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Pere Ubu,
Godley & Creme,
48th St. Collective,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Albert Ayler,
the Human League,
Quantec,
Soul II Soul,
Harmonia,
Model 500,
The Moody Blues,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang of Four,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Robert Görl,
The Durutti Column,
Adolescents,
Maleditus Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Derrick Morgan,
Byron Stingily,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.