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 Laos and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
H. Thieme,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
Dennis Brown,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Remains,
Adolescents,
Josef K,
Sound Behaviour,
Howard Jones,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Green,
The Monochrome Set,
Terry Callier,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crime,
Rakim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Todd Terry,
The Busters,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlback,
cv313,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
Pylon,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
Icehouse,
The Leaves,
Scan 7,
AZ,
Cymande,
MDC,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bauhaus,
Nirvana,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Foxx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Make Up,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.