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 Belize and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Boredoms,
Pantytec,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Y Pants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sex Pistols,
Glambeats Corp.,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Organ,
T.S.O.L.,
The Selecter,
Morten Harket,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang On A Can,
The Star Department,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reagan Youth,
FM Einheit,
The Young Rascals,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Halsall,
Fatback Band,
Animal Collective,
Gichy Dan,
Michelle Simonal,
Roger Hodgson,
Flipper,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Barry Ungar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Hardrive,
Isaac Hayes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Moss Icon,
Brothers Johnson,
David Bowie,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.