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 Macedonia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the grime 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Brick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Qualms,
Quadrant,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Seeds,
Delta 5,
Glambeats Corp.,
Los Fastidios,
Deakin,
Motorama,
Charles Mingus,
Grey Daturas,
The Leaves,
Country Teasers,
Flash Fearless,
Fugazi,
8 Eyed Spy,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
Boz Scaggs,
Negative Approach,
Panda Bear,
Swell Maps,
Electric Prunes,
Wings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Bang On A Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Human League,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
L. Decosne,
The Searchers,
Yusef Lateef,
Mark Hollis,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
Altered Images,
The Happenings,
JFA,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Aswad,
The Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Archie Shepp,
The Gladiators,
T.S.O.L.,
Q65,
Stiv Bators,
MDC,
D'Angelo,
Pantytec,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.