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 East Timor and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Dawn Penn to the grime 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Ultra Naté,
The Smoke,
Lyres,
Skaos,
the Sonics,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang of Four,
Idris Muhammad,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
The Cramps,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yazoo,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Copeland,
Michelle Simonal,
Reagan Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Zero Boys,
The Human League,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slackers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Duran Duran,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Stetsasonic,
cv313,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Arcadia,
Inner City,
OOIOO,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stereo Dub,
Frankie Knuckles,
T.S.O.L.,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.