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 Togo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 the Germs to the grime 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Ken Boothe,
the Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
The Blues Magoos,
Moebius,
Black Sheep,
A Certain Ratio,
Marc Almond,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
Marcia Griffiths,
Intrusion,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T.S.O.L.,
Flash Fearless,
Howard Jones,
Marmalade,
Bad Manners,
The Cure,
Shoche,
Maurizio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joey Negro,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pussy Galore,
Little Man,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Count Five,
Ituana,
Ossler,
Chrome,
Gong,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
Arcadia,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Los Fastidios,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ludus,
Bobby Womack,
The Gap Band,
The Toasters,
DJ Sneak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zero Boys,
The Names,
Skaos,
John Foxx,
The Grass Roots,
Kerri Chandler,
Technova,
Junior Murvin,
Thompson Twins,
Porter Ricks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.