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 St Lucia and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soft Cell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed 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 techno 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Matthew Bourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Susan Cadogan,
Todd Rundgren,
Fela Kuti,
Guru Guru,
Skaos,
The Gladiators,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sound Behaviour,
the Association,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
The Birthday Party,
Rites of Spring,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick Morgan,
Brothers Johnson,
Ponytail,
Hot Snakes,
Parry Music,
10cc,
Robert Wyatt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lebanon Hanover,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
Amon Düül,
Newcleus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gories,
World's Most,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grey Daturas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
PIL,
Yusef Lateef,
Trumans Water,
Neu!,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Byron Stingily,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Outsiders,
CMW,
Reagan Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Q65,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Curtis Mayfield,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.