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 Belize 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 H. Thieme to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Jawbox,
Alton Ellis,
John Holt,
DJ Sneak,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
MDC,
Quando Quango,
Public Image Ltd.,
World's Most,
New Order,
Von Mondo,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gun Club,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiohead,
Hardrive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Star Department,
New Age Steppers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
Altered Images,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Evens,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Maurizio,
Interpol,
Davy DMX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.