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 Slovenia and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Fat Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fatback Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
The Durutti Column,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vladislav Delay,
Bluetip,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minor Threat,
Adolescents,
Siglo XX,
Sandy B,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Fela Kuti,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter & Gordon,
Radio Birdman,
the Slits,
UT,
Kaleidoscope,
Ituana,
Derrick Morgan,
Nils Olav,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
the Normal,
Neu!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Scion,
the Germs,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
James White and The Blacks,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Agitation Free,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Enemy,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.