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 Uzbekistan and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Alton Ellis to the rap 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
10cc,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
Sandy B,
Fear,
EPMD,
Funky Four + One,
Hasil Adkins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Subhumans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Grass Roots,
Main Source,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Black Sheep,
The Seeds,
Ten City,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Guru Guru,
The Monks,
The Black Dice,
Pagans,
Second Layer,
Janne Schatter,
Groovy Waters,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Supertramp,
Rapeman,
MC5,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Warsaw,
The Fuzztones,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smiths,
Y Pants,
Desert Stars,
The Selecter,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gap Band,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.