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 Saudi Arabia and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jawbox to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marcia Griffiths,
Brothers Johnson,
The Residents,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Au Pairs,
The Standells,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Roy Ayers,
Country Teasers,
Derrick Morgan,
Quadrant,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
The Last Poets,
The Beau Brummels,
Oblivians,
Boogie Down Productions,
Carl Craig,
Desert Stars,
Cluster,
Alice Coltrane,
The Selecter,
Black Pus,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Von Mondo,
Monks,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
Todd Terry,
Eric Dolphy,
Warren Ellis,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Shoche,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
Boredoms,
Harry Pussy,
Rotary Connection,
Tim Buckley,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.