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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Magma to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
This Heat,
Ludus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unwound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
UT,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amazonics,
Q and Not U,
F. McDonald,
The Dirtbombs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Television,
Public Image Ltd.,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Mark Hollis,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Joe Finger,
Erasure,
Tubeway Army,
Parry Music,
Don Cherry,
Yaz,
Half Japanese,
LL Cool J,
Intrusion,
The New Christs,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
Laurel Aitken,
Nas,
Joe Smooth,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric Dolphy,
T.S.O.L.,
Yellowson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.