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 Slovakia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Average White Band to the rap 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
The Searchers,
Icehouse,
The Dave Clark Five,
Altered Images,
Loose Ends,
Basic Channel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Finger,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Hill,
LL Cool J,
Funkadelic,
John Lydon,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Pantytec,
Don Cherry,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Accadde A,
Tommy Roe,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Knickerbockers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angry Samoans,
Jandek,
the Normal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Monolake,
The Velvet Underground,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
The Buckinghams,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hashim,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Birthday Party,
The Saints,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Agent Orange,
Erykah Badu,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Agitation Free,
The Litter,
Jacques Brel,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.