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 Benin and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Oblivians to the rap 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Organ,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Teasers,
The Motions,
Jawbox,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
Donny Hathaway,
Dead Boys,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The New Christs,
Drive Like Jehu,
B.T. Express,
Brand Nubian,
Blossom Toes,
The J.B.'s,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-Ray Spex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispy Ambulance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gong,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oblivians,
Erykah Badu,
The Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
Camberwell Now,
Japan,
Kerri Chandler,
This Heat,
Ken Boothe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
Von Mondo,
Tim Buckley,
The Litter,
Deadbeat,
Scientists,
Soul II Soul,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.