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 Antigua and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Letta Mbulu to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
DJ Style,
Mark Hollis,
The Trojans,
Rod Modell,
Subhumans,
Suburban Knight,
Sällskapet,
Skarface,
Erykah Badu,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Five Americans,
The Knickerbockers,
Archie Shepp,
The Sonics,
Lakeside,
Schoolly D,
Tom Boy,
Panda Bear,
The Flesh Eaters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Janne Schatter,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
Pierre Henry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mars,
The Fugs,
Loose Ends,
Tim Buckley,
The Smiths,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Danielle Patucci,
Skriet,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New York Dolls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Alphaville,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moleskins,
Spandau Ballet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flash Fearless,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Pus,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Don Cherry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
James White and The Blacks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.