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 Bahamas and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Womack to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Pantaleimon,
cv313,
Joe Finger,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Section 25,
Nils Olav,
Lower 48,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
EPMD,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Peter & Gordon,
Al Stewart,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Todd Terry,
Boz Scaggs,
Masters at Work,
Parry Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Prince Buster,
World's Most,
Echospace,
Schoolly D,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Standells,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Grass Roots,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The American Breed,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
Bill Near,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Boredoms,
The Smoke,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
Morten Harket,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eden Ahbez,
The Moleskins,
Siglo XX,
John Foxx,
Bobby Womack,
The Smiths,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mars,
The Kinks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.