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 Bhutan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Flesh Eaters to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Mars,
Roy Ayers,
Stereo Dub,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
Barclay James Harvest,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Charles Mingus,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Rundgren,
Scrapy,
Minny Pops,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
Inner City,
Half Japanese,
Tommy Roe,
The Angels of Light,
Boredoms,
Sound Behaviour,
Q65,
The Victims,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
The Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Qualms,
Juan Atkins,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
The Remains,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Flag,
OOIOO,
Oneida,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
Vainqueur,
Chrome,
The Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dead C,
Faraquet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Supertramp,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.