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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funkadelic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Goldenarms,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Von Mondo,
Deakin,
Kaleidoscope,
The Motions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Smog,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Nas,
X-102,
Black Moon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Make Up,
The Move,
Radio Birdman,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Animal Collective,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
Cameo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
Schoolly D,
The Trojans,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
MDC,
Minnie Riperton,
Popol Vuh,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacques Brel,
The Mummies,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Christie,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mr. Review,
The Moody Blues,
Motorama,
Groovy Waters,
Rosa Yemen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.