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 Pakistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Selecter,
Matthew Halsall,
Janne Schatter,
Blake Baxter,
Maleditus Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
Charles Mingus,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
Swans,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Beau Brummels,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
Alison Limerick,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Graham Central Station,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sex Pistols,
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Amazonics,
Dead Boys,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
The Walker Brothers,
T. Rex,
Toni Rubio,
F. McDonald,
Warren Ellis,
Tommy Roe,
Q and Not U,
Subhumans,
Joy Division,
Whodini,
Black Flag,
Ohio Players,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ten City,
Black Pus,
Slick Rick,
Wolf Eyes,
Wally Richardson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Barbara Tucker,
The Martian,
Japan,
Dennis Brown,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.