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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Judy Mowatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Soul II Soul,
Marc Almond,
Average White Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
L. Decosne,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
Joy Division,
The Buckinghams,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Kayak,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Residents,
The Names,
Guru Guru,
Fluxion,
Qualms,
Charles Mingus,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scan 7,
Bill Near,
Spoonie Gee,
Audionom,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aloha Tigers,
Anthony Braxton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Flag,
The Fugs,
The Real Kids,
Quadrant,
Q and Not U,
Babytalk,
Rod Modell,
Barrington Levy,
Heaven 17,
New Age Steppers,
Ituana,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
the Normal,
Idris Muhammad,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.