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 Comoros and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Porter Ricks to the disco 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Stetsasonic,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Mills,
Deakin,
Rapeman,
La Düsseldorf,
Moby Grape,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
Jacques Brel,
Yellowson,
The Slackers,
Tears for Fears,
Swell Maps,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
Rekid,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doors,
Janne Schatter,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ornette Coleman,
MC5,
Crime,
Jawbox,
Von Mondo,
Accadde A,
Cabaret Voltaire,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
Piero Umiliani,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wolf Eyes,
Cymande,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed,
The Walker Brothers,
Ice-T,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Pus,
The New Christs,
Supertramp,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moleskins,
Grey Daturas,
The Last Poets,
Eddi Front,
Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.