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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerri Chandler,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
Bluetip,
Tubeway Army,
Thompson Twins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Golliwogs,
Blossom Toes,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monochrome Set,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smiths,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare,
Clear Light,
Adolescents,
Cecil Taylor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barbara Tucker,
Scion,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
Archie Shepp,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
The Kinks,
China Crisis,
Rites of Spring,
Morten Harket,
Section 25,
David Bowie,
FM Einheit,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mummies,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Model 500,
Q65,
Pantaleimon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Brick,
The Barracudas,
New Age Steppers,
The Doobie Brothers,
10cc,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.