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 Malawi and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the marimba 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Nils Olav,
Tom Boy,
Soft Cell,
The Move,
Soft Machine,
Brick,
Fugazi,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tim Buckley,
Ken Boothe,
Von Mondo,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barry Ungar,
Basic Channel,
Joensuu 1685,
Rhythm & Sound,
Agent Orange,
Public Enemy,
Duran Duran,
Marine Girls,
The Fortunes,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
Joe Smooth,
The Victims,
The Techniques,
China Crisis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Janne Schatter,
The Trojans,
The Martian,
Porter Ricks,
New Order,
48th St. Collective,
Mr. Review,
Section 25,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
Can,
The Fugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
Guru Guru,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
The Durutti Column,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.