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 Iran and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Frankie Knuckles to the disco 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Last Poets,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
The Misunderstood,
Josef K,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roger Hodgson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
John Lydon,
The Buckinghams,
Colin Newman,
Masters at Work,
La Düsseldorf,
The Smiths,
Crime,
R.M.O.,
Throbbing Gristle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mo-Dettes,
Severed Heads,
Soulsonic Force,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Lightning Bolt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
Monolake,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eden Ahbez,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
Skarface,
Siglo XX,
MC5,
Bizarre Inc.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Donald Byrd,
Moby Grape,
The Saints,
The Flesh Eaters,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.