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 Singapore and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Rotary Connection to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Donald Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Minnie Riperton,
Desert Stars,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Essential Logic,
Massinfluence,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jawbox,
The J.B.'s,
Procol Harum,
Al Stewart,
Morten Harket,
John Lydon,
Ronan,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
June Days,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Max Romeo,
Marvin Gaye,
Arcadia,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
Carl Craig,
Oblivians,
Sällskapet,
The Martian,
Arthur Verocai,
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
Inner City,
Sister Nancy,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Görl,
Barry Ungar,
The Victims,
E-Dancer,
The Fortunes,
Surgeon,
The Saints,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
Sonny Sharrock,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Remains,
Tres Demented,
Pole,
the Association,
FM Einheit,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minutemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.