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 Benin and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
B.T. Express,
Marcia Griffiths,
Inner City,
The Raincoats,
Wolf Eyes,
Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hasil Adkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sugar Minott,
Stetsasonic,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rites of Spring,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arcadia,
Duran Duran,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Görl,
Pussy Galore,
Maurizio,
Oneida,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thee Headcoats,
La Düsseldorf,
Youth Brigade,
Y Pants,
Maleditus Sound,
The Saints,
Tommy Roe,
The Misunderstood,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stereo Dub,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
H. Thieme,
The Gladiators,
Con Funk Shun,
This Heat,
Lalann,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zero Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Popol Vuh,
Pylon,
AZ,
Crooked Eye,
Sällskapet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.