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 Singapore and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
A Certain Ratio,
The Barracudas,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
June of 44,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick Morgan,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quando Quango,
Smog,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
Sexual Harrassment,
DJ Sneak,
Schoolly D,
Clear Light,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
kango's stein massive,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oblivians,
The Fortunes,
Siglo XX,
John Coltrane,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Rapeman,
Roxy Music,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Flash Fearless,
Moebius,
The Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Osbourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neil Young,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Trumans Water,
The Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Moleskins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.