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 Somalia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the rap 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Deakin,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Association,
The Grass Roots,
Scrapy,
AZ,
Howard Jones,
One Last Wish,
Moby Grape,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Reed,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalann,
kango's stein massive,
Groovy Waters,
New York Dolls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pussy Galore,
the Germs,
The Seeds,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
Alison Limerick,
Qualms,
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suburban Knight,
Lucky Dragons,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dennis Brown,
Al Stewart,
Rakim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hoover,
Fela Kuti,
Liliput,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
Sällskapet,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sandy B,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gories,
Rapeman,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.