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 Zimbabwe and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Ice-T 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sugar Minott,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultra Naté,
Subhumans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
World's Most,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bluetip,
Stereo Dub,
Angry Samoans,
The Gun Club,
Audionom,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scan 7,
X-102,
the Germs,
Sällskapet,
Kayak,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick May,
Easy Going,
Josef K,
Duran Duran,
The Kinks,
Shoche,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wolf Eyes,
Bush Tetras,
Black Flag,
Rotary Connection,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Tears for Fears,
Popol Vuh,
Aloha Tigers,
Mantronix,
The Evens,
DNA,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Victims,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
Idris Muhammad,
Average White Band,
cv313,
Nation of Ulysses,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Black Dice,
Cal Tjader,
The Vogues,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.