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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Prince Buster to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
Easy Going,
Erykah Badu,
Symarip,
Lindisfarne,
Section 25,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
Glenn Branca,
Ice-T,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wolf Eyes,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang of Four,
Von Mondo,
The Toasters,
The Vogues,
Duran Duran,
Ten City,
Stetsasonic,
The Fall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marvin Gaye,
Urselle,
Derrick May,
Arab on Radar,
Donny Hathaway,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
Matthew Halsall,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pole,
Rakim,
The Victims,
Fear,
Dennis Brown,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Prunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mantronix,
The Raincoats,
Morten Harket,
Nirvana,
Anakelly,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Average White Band,
Harmonia,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Swans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Supertramp,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.