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 Congo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
Anakelly,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronan,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
X-102,
10cc,
Ponytail,
Barry Ungar,
The Motions,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jawbox,
Babytalk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
Index,
Gong,
Ossler,
Gang Green,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Tom Boy,
Nirvana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Human League,
Swans,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
The Offenders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blancmange,
Johnny Clarke,
Moss Icon,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
Tommy Roe,
Joy Division,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oblivians,
Matthew Halsall,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra,
Public Enemy,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drexciya,
Sight & Sound,
The Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Human League,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.