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 Gambia and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
kango's stein massive,
Graham Central Station,
Judy Mowatt,
Mr. Review,
Danielle Patucci,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
The Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
Wally Richardson,
Visage,
Rod Modell,
B.T. Express,
Parry Music,
The Modern Lovers,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
Japan,
Fela Kuti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soulsonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
The Toasters,
Audionom,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Happenings,
The Last Poets,
Derrick Morgan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bluetip,
Slick Rick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Idris Muhammad,
Nico,
Davy DMX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Tremeloes,
Pole,
Dual Sessions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Iggy Pop,
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
Pere Ubu,
Sun City Girls,
Pantaleimon,
The Names,
Amon Düül II,
Spandau Ballet,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.