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 France and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fugs,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Easy Going,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warren Ellis,
The Cowsills,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hoover,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dead C,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Sarah Menescal,
Mo-Dettes,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DNA,
Nirvana,
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
Cecil Taylor,
Roger Hodgson,
Godley & Creme,
In Retrospect,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sam Rivers,
Bob Dylan,
Nils Olav,
Man Parrish,
Judy Mowatt,
Bauhaus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fad Gadget,
X-102,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ponytail,
Derrick Morgan,
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
the Association,
Fugazi,
The Skatalites,
China Crisis,
Little Man,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.