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 Swaziland and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 dance 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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Todd Terry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
The Slits,
Sonic Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deepchord,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Martian,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Massinfluence,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Pussy Galore,
Albert Ayler,
Outsiders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Maurizio,
Eli Mardock,
Wasted Youth,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
The Victims,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
John Holt,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ornette Coleman,
Eurythmics,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
The Fall,
Gang Green,
Ronnie Foster,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul Sonic Force,
Brick,
Toni Rubio,
Icehouse,
Connie Case,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.