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 Belize and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ohio Players to the jazz 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion 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?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Roger Hodgson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cure,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Rufus Thomas,
Prince Buster,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Finger,
Animal Collective,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
Erasure,
Deepchord,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
The Mojo Men,
Swell Maps,
Bad Manners,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Technova,
the Soft Cell,
the Association,
Althea and Donna,
Jacques Brel,
Gregory Isaacs,
New Age Steppers,
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
Oneida,
Brothers Johnson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young,
Public Image Ltd.,
Easy Going,
The Toasters,
Stetsasonic,
Quadrant,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bronski Beat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric Copeland,
Soul II Soul,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Star Department,
David McCallum,
Absolute Body Control,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Terry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.