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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Alice Coltrane to the rap 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Skatalites,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aural Exciters,
The Trojans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Sun Ra,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Man Eating Sloth,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Donald Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Anthony Braxton,
Althea and Donna,
Average White Band,
Ponytail,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yaz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
The Offenders,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
The Standells,
The Slits,
Faust,
Sixth Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delta 5,
Liliput,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Germs,
The Invisible,
PIL,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barrington Levy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.