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 St Lucia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 The Knickerbockers to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Prince Buster,
Tom Boy,
D'Angelo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Young Rascals,
Cecil Taylor,
Wings,
The Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Leaves,
Soul II Soul,
Cluster,
Bobby Womack,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Freddie Wadling,
Essential Logic,
Maurizio,
Trumans Water,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Pole,
The Vogues,
the Human League,
Livin' Joy,
The Busters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bob Dylan,
the Slits,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agitation Free,
Skriet,
the Swans,
Morten Harket,
The Gladiators,
Radio Birdman,
X-101,
The Grass Roots,
Godley & Creme,
Jerry's Kids,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camberwell Now,
Mission of Burma,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.