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 Czech Republic and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 B.T. Express to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Warsaw,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Style,
The Offenders,
Supertramp,
Reagan Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bootsy Collins,
Rosa Yemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Man Parrish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rufus Thomas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mad Mike,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
The Wake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Country Teasers,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ken Boothe,
the Germs,
Hoover,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
Mantronix,
The Mojo Men,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare,
Television,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brick,
Morten Harket,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ludus,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Procol Harum,
John Lydon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bauhaus,
Basic Channel,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.