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 Gambia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 The Residents to the rock 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Outsiders,
Joe Smooth,
Radio Birdman,
Donald Byrd,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Tommy Roe,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kayak,
Anakelly,
Adolescents,
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Bluetip,
Angry Samoans,
Neil Young,
The Kinks,
Delta 5,
the Association,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott Heron,
ABC,
Banda Bassotti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Goldenarms,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
Gang Green,
Bobby Sherman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispy Ambulance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Mandrill,
Masters at Work,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
a-ha,
Gerry Rafferty,
Clear Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Fraelich,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Mills,
Kurtis Blow,
Crooked Eye,
Gichy Dan,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.