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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Iggy Pop to the dance 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Gichy Dan,
Joy Division,
Dual Sessions,
The Five Americans,
Jacob Miller,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Supertramp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Interpol,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Organ,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
Soft Machine,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
Aural Exciters,
Janne Schatter,
Clear Light,
Todd Terry,
The Skatalites,
the Association,
the Human League,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flipper,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cluster,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
The Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Beau Brummels,
UT,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.