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 Gambia and from Lille.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro 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 Ice-T to the crunk 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sexual Harrassment,
Newcleus,
Robert Wyatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Roger Hodgson,
Main Source,
Loose Ends,
Grey Daturas,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Althea and Donna,
Black Moon,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Black Dice,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Smooth,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Womack,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
D'Angelo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
E-Dancer,
Dark Day,
Cecil Taylor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Saccharine Trust,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Golliwogs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marvin Gaye,
Rotary Connection,
Mantronix,
Bluetip,
Alice Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Technova,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.