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 Tunisia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Qualms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Todd Terry,
Fela Kuti,
The Victims,
Porter Ricks,
Lalann,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
Heaven 17,
The Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
The Gladiators,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Raincoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eli Mardock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bush Tetras,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kurtis Blow,
Sam Rivers,
Davy DMX,
The Invisible,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Symarip,
Animal Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
Anthony Braxton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Judy Mowatt,
The Skatalites,
Severed Heads,
John Foxx,
Ultra Naté,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alice Coltrane,
Fugazi,
Yusef Lateef,
Erykah Badu,
Robert Görl,
Country Teasers,
Drexciya,
Moebius,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.