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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Suburban Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Country Teasers,
Hoover,
Avey Tare,
FM Einheit,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
Iggy Pop,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
Gang of Four,
the Sonics,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Liliput,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Todd Terry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cameo,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers,
The Standells,
Schoolly D,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
Smog,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
The Star Department,
LL Cool J,
Al Stewart,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Michelle Simonal,
The Wake,
Bootsy Collins,
Boredoms,
CMW,
U.S. Maple,
Gong,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.