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 Botswana and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Brick 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
R.M.O.,
ABC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Neil Young,
Todd Rundgren,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skaos,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Technova,
The Pretty Things,
Kerri Chandler,
The Motions,
Henry Cow,
Symarip,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
Aswad,
Alison Limerick,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Godley & Creme,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Freddie Wadling,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yusef Lateef,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Von Mondo,
Metal Thangz,
kango's stein massive,
Yaz,
Livin' Joy,
Scan 7,
The Dead C,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Minny Pops,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Index,
Magma,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Clarke,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.