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 Israel and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Alton Ellis to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Rapeman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Guru Guru,
Liliput,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Lydon,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
Bluetip,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ludus,
Peter & Gordon,
Loose Ends,
Bill Near,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Soft Machine,
The Moleskins,
L. Decosne,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry's Kids,
Mantronix,
Eve St. Jones,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Piero Umiliani,
June Days,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funky Four + One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rod Modell,
Blake Baxter,
Television Personalities,
U.S. Maple,
Shoche,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Scion,
Lalann,
Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Birthday Party,
The Monochrome Set,
Isaac Hayes,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
kango's stein massive,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.