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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Television Personalities to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Ken Boothe,
Junior Murvin,
Albert Ayler,
Pharoah Sanders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
E-Dancer,
Au Pairs,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Bobby Sherman,
the Bar-Kays,
Dual Sessions,
Fluxion,
Malaria!,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Anthony Braxton,
X-101,
Henry Cow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Evens,
Colin Newman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alton Ellis,
The Selecter,
Grauzone,
Yellowson,
Connie Case,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Section 25,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
The Offenders,
Charles Mingus,
Yazoo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kurtis Blow,
Ludus,
Ponytail,
the Association,
MC5,
Y Pants,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.