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 Russia and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Lou Reed 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Aswad 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 grunge 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
E-Dancer,
Public Enemy,
The Grass Roots,
Pagans,
K-Klass,
Tom Boy,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
Mad Mike,
Subhumans,
Nils Olav,
Inner City,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Leonard Cohen,
Bad Manners,
Young Marble Giants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
ABC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
Unrelated Segments,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dirtbombs,
Con Funk Shun,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
F. McDonald,
Aswad,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
Rotary Connection,
Youth Brigade,
Theoretical Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang On A Can,
Angry Samoans,
This Heat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Electric Prunes,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Holt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jacques Brel,
Second Layer,
Fatback Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Sun Ra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skriet,
Lou Christie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris & Cosey,
Half Japanese,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.