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 Burkina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric B and Rakim to the techno 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Procol Harum,
UT,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Moody Blues,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fear,
Gichy Dan,
The Buckinghams,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
Deadbeat,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
the Swans,
The Mojo Men,
Chrome,
Jacob Miller,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sandy B,
The Gories,
Motorama,
The Young Rascals,
Aswad,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Martian,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
The Zeros,
David McCallum,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gabor Szabo,
Skriet,
Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
The Searchers,
Darondo,
The Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Eurythmics,
The Raincoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
Visage,
Sex Pistols,
Wings,
Technova,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
The Human League,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.