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 San Marino and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Theoretical Girls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
Wolf Eyes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Womack,
La Düsseldorf,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Trumans Water,
Sex Pistols,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
The J.B.'s,
Gang Gang Dance,
Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Visage,
The Neon Judgement,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Axelrod,
Roger Hodgson,
Organ,
Scratch Acid,
Rhythm & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
K-Klass,
The Leaves,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.