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 Montenegro and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 J.B.'s to the techno 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
H. Thieme,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Cale,
The Monochrome Set,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
OOIOO,
The Slackers,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
Guru Guru,
Bluetip,
Robert Görl,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
Jacques Brel,
The Fall,
KRS-One,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Gong,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Ituana,
Skriet,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Shoche,
Godley & Creme,
The Skatalites,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Technova,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Womack,
The Misunderstood,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.