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 Ghana and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
Youth Brigade,
Hoover,
the Soft Cell,
Grauzone,
Anakelly,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cure,
Half Japanese,
Underground Resistance,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Holt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soulsonic Force,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Donny Hathaway,
Tommy Roe,
The Blackbyrds,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Victims,
Aloha Tigers,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Das Ding,
Brand Nubian,
Kenny Larkin,
Tomorrow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonic Youth,
Wally Richardson,
The Busters,
Fela Kuti,
The Smiths,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
MC5,
Ten City,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
Isaac Hayes,
Trumans Water,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
The Barracudas,
Leonard Cohen,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.