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 Cameroon and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Rites of Spring to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Radiopuhelimet,
MDC,
Connie Case,
Niagra,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
a-ha,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Seeds,
Second Layer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dual Sessions,
The Detroit Cobras,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fugs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Janne Schatter,
Angry Samoans,
Interpol,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Iggy Pop,
Moss Icon,
Motorama,
Alice Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Massinfluence,
The Raincoats,
Unwound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Drexciya,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Sheep,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
OOIOO,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Can,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Yellowson,
Roxy Music,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.