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 Israel and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Knickerbockers to the crunk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Godley & Creme,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
The Mummies,
The Skatalites,
Vainqueur,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Public Enemy,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marvin Gaye,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Sneak,
Fad Gadget,
Mars,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bang On A Can,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
The American Breed,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stetsasonic,
Little Man,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Von Mondo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rotary Connection,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding,
The Smiths,
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Barracudas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kayak,
Easy Going,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Chris Corsano,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.