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 Algeria and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grime 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Freddie Wadling,
Television Personalities,
E-Dancer,
Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Warsaw,
Tears for Fears,
Prince Buster,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Womack,
Yaz,
Sister Nancy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
DJ Style,
Erykah Badu,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Tremeloes,
Faust,
Zero Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Alice Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Essential Logic,
Scrapy,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Fear,
John Lydon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slits,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fluxion,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
Mo-Dettes,
Fatback Band,
The Slackers,
Sugar Minott,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Dead C,
Cluster,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.