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 Comoros and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Crash Course in Science,
Hardrive,
Nas,
Bill Near,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nik Kershaw,
Max Romeo,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
Sun Ra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall,
Fatback Band,
The Selecter,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Green,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Young Rascals,
Lalann,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Public Enemy,
Cameo,
T.S.O.L.,
EPMD,
Todd Terry,
Kerrie Biddell,
B.T. Express,
The Slackers,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
The Fire Engines,
Nico,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
Lee Hazlewood,
Altered Images,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Reuben Wilson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blake Baxter,
Negative Approach,
Cal Tjader,
Agitation Free,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Moody Blues,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.