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 Israel and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Index 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Pylon,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
The Slits,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fuzztones,
Trumans Water,
Quantec,
Bob Dylan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Arcadia,
Pantaleimon,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Echospace,
Lalann,
Peter and Kerry,
Camberwell Now,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Neil Young,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Niagra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Zero Boys,
Lakeside,
Ten City,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Bar-Kays,
Adolescents,
The Trojans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funkadelic,
The Mojo Men,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blackbyrds,
EPMD,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Angry Samoans,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.