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 Burundi and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the rap 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pere Ubu,
Pantytec,
Magma,
Thompson Twins,
China Crisis,
Unwound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Youth Brigade,
The Slits,
Dawn Penn,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T.S.O.L.,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
The Fugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camberwell Now,
Crime,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sex Pistols,
Newcleus,
June Days,
Spoonie Gee,
Aswad,
The Move,
The Star Department,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Offenders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rapeman,
Arthur Verocai,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wire,
OOIOO,
The Slackers,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Sherman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eurythmics,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Halsall,
Nik Kershaw,
Kayak,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
Ponytail,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fela Kuti,
The Shadows of Knight,
Juan Atkins,
Hot Snakes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Babytalk,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.