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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Standells to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Suburban Knight,
The Moleskins,
LL Cool J,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Sällskapet,
B.T. Express,
Absolute Body Control,
Matthew Halsall,
The Tremeloes,
The Skatalites,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Offenders,
Blancmange,
The Divine Comedy,
Dual Sessions,
The Associates,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eli Mardock,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
OOIOO,
The Moody Blues,
Popol Vuh,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Wells,
Bronski Beat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marine Girls,
ABC,
Country Teasers,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gun Club,
June Days,
Davy DMX,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
Rakim,
June of 44,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Big Daddy Kane,
Prince Buster,
Danielle Patucci,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
Darondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magazine,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Mills,
Rufus Thomas,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.