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 Kiribati and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 Metal Thangz to the funk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Arthur Verocai,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Womack,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young,
Stereo Dub,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
D'Angelo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Green,
Sound Behaviour,
the Human League,
Archie Shepp,
Sällskapet,
Electric Prunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Parry Music,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pere Ubu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The J.B.'s,
Rotary Connection,
Agent Orange,
Moss Icon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rakim,
Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Talk Talk,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Big Daddy Kane,
Junior Murvin,
Marine Girls,
Pagans,
Darondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crooked Eye,
Lalann,
Ohio Players,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.