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 Nigeria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
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 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 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Alice Coltrane,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
Jeff Mills,
Eden Ahbez,
Gong,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Laurel Aitken,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The J.B.'s,
The Beau Brummels,
DJ Sneak,
Ten City,
Henry Cow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw,
Smog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Von Mondo,
Moss Icon,
The Offenders,
Public Enemy,
Bad Manners,
Bill Near,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Excepter,
Section 25,
Average White Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zapp,
This Heat,
H. Thieme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barrington Levy,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Deepchord,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
A Certain Ratio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lakeside,
The Star Department,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.