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 Algeria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hashim,
X-Ray Spex,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
Al Stewart,
Jacob Miller,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Malaria!,
Arab on Radar,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
Sam Rivers,
Erasure,
Banda Bassotti,
Bluetip,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
PIL,
The Detroit Cobras,
10cc,
E-Dancer,
Nils Olav,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Davy DMX,
Byron Stingily,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gong,
Model 500,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Swell Maps,
The Kinks,
Bobby Byrd,
Royal Trux,
Sandy B,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Holt,
Little Man,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joey Negro,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
Roxette,
The Selecter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.