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 Togo and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the electroclash 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric Copeland,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Patti Smith,
Icehouse,
Echospace,
Intrusion,
John Lydon,
Pussy Galore,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slackers,
Nils Olav,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camouflage,
Dave Gahan,
Ludus,
Make Up,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Thompson Twins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Erykah Badu,
Jacques Brel,
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
David Bowie,
The Five Americans,
Mad Mike,
The Knickerbockers,
Oneida,
The Monks,
Minny Pops,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gong,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Essential Logic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Remains,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeff Lynne,
Yusef Lateef,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fortunes,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.