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 Turkey and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
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 spring reverb 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 Barrington Levy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bronski Beat,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry's Kids,
Josef K,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Royal Trux,
Oblivians,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Babytalk,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Howard Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
The Litter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Newcleus,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed,
Sugar Minott,
JFA,
Scrapy,
Infiniti,
John Coltrane,
Vainqueur,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alison Limerick,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Hasil Adkins,
Thee Headcoats,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deadbeat,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stereo Dub,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
China Crisis,
Ultra Naté,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Sheep,
Freddie Wadling,
Hot Snakes,
Henry Cow,
The Last Poets,
Outsiders,
The Martian,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.