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 Portugal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 harpsichord 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 the Germs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Leonard Cohen,
Pantytec,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Byrd,
Scan 7,
Funky Four + One,
The Wake,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Byron Stingily,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
Metal Thangz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
The Trojans,
Ituana,
Stetsasonic,
The Slits,
Average White Band,
June of 44,
The Tremeloes,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters,
The Seeds,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
Roxy Music,
Oblivians,
David Axelrod,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül,
Agitation Free,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
Boz Scaggs,
Slave,
Camouflage,
The Knickerbockers,
Groovy Waters,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fear,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Starr,
David McCallum,
Roxette,
UT,
Massinfluence,
Quantec,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.