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 Palau and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Last Poets to the funk 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David McCallum,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Connie Case,
Blancmange,
The Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
cv313,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Bang On A Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Association,
Underground Resistance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pantaleimon,
DJ Style,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quando Quango,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Josef K,
Minny Pops,
The Raincoats,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kas Product,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Can,
Albert Ayler,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Womack,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tubeway Army,
Deepchord,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Wire,
Dark Day,
One Last Wish,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.