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 Venezuela and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk 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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps,
Altered Images,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Panda Bear,
The Velvet Underground,
Sun Ra,
Technova,
The Divine Comedy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lindisfarne,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Pet Shop Boys,
New Order,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Moebius,
Trumans Water,
Fugazi,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Ronnie Foster,
MC5,
Big Daddy Kane,
Public Enemy,
Marc Almond,
The Last Poets,
Icehouse,
the Bar-Kays,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
Marmalade,
Maleditus Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Goldenarms,
Drexciya,
Ludus,
Grey Daturas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terry Callier,
Bluetip,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.