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 Brunei and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum 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 Ice-T to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Human League,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
Qualms,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
Gastr Del Sol,
Archie Shepp,
Marine Girls,
The Sonics,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
The Residents,
The Stooges,
Buzzcocks,
Radiohead,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
The Names,
Black Bananas,
Severed Heads,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
The Techniques,
The Sound,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fat Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Enemy,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
Rotary Connection,
Aural Exciters,
Monks,
The Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Q65,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blues Magoos,
Audionom,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ponytail,
John Cale,
Junior Murvin,
Theoretical Girls,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.