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 Sierra Leone and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 A Certain Ratio to the crunk 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare,
cv313,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Half Japanese,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
The Trojans,
Niagra,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
Fat Boys,
Tom Boy,
The Slits,
Babytalk,
The Litter,
Soul II Soul,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
Erykah Badu,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Germs,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Severed Heads,
Clear Light,
Nils Olav,
Liliput,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Busters,
Amon Düül,
Tears for Fears,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Residents,
Sonic Youth,
Basic Channel,
Soul Sonic Force,
Au Pairs,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.