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 Hungary and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 The Happenings to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Babytalk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chrome,
Henry Cow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Radiohead,
Carl Craig,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brand Nubian,
the Normal,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Niagra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Banda Bassotti,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
Funky Four + One,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
Sun Ra,
Minnie Riperton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Boz Scaggs,
Quando Quango,
Black Sheep,
Spoonie Gee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Theoretical Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Maurizio,
Silicon Teens,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
The Electric Prunes,
Rotary Connection,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Young Rascals,
Agent Orange,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yazoo,
Eurythmics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brick,
Althea and Donna,
Bluetip,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.