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 Tanzania and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 The Black Dice to the rap 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
CMW,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
The Dead C,
Steve Hackett,
The J.B.'s,
The Busters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang On A Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Livin' Joy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maleditus Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fluxion,
Letta Mbulu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Organ,
The Misunderstood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Clear Light,
UT,
Iggy Pop,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
X-101,
the Sonics,
MC5,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Japan,
Sparks,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mars,
Liliput,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
Judy Mowatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.