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 Sierra Leone and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dennis Brown to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
Sun City Girls,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
the Normal,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Suicide,
Mo-Dettes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vainqueur,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Cale,
The Invisible,
Sonny Sharrock,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra,
Brass Construction,
Adolescents,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
Minor Threat,
The Move,
the Association,
The Slits,
UT,
Anakelly,
Robert Wyatt,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
Simply Red,
Eve St. Jones,
Donald Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
The Saints,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.