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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Bootsy Collins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cheater Slicks,
Chrome,
The Index,
Godley & Creme,
Silicon Teens,
Cal Tjader,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Main Source,
Icehouse,
Metal Thangz,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Desert Stars,
Schoolly D,
Scientists,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gap Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
Second Layer,
The Doors,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wally Richardson,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick May,
Von Mondo,
Slave,
Scion,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kayak,
Echospace,
Liliput,
Nils Olav,
Soul II Soul,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Eli Mardock,
The Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
The Residents,
Arab on Radar,
Sandy B,
Public Enemy,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
Terry Callier,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.