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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Amazonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Freddie Wadling,
Fad Gadget,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric Dolphy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cymande,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Banda Bassotti,
Inner City,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Young Rascals,
the Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
The Remains,
Goldenarms,
Public Enemy,
The Black Dice,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Half Japanese,
Alison Limerick,
The Toasters,
Scientists,
Suicide,
Sällskapet,
Wire,
Derrick May,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Von Mondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.