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 Russia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 The Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Ponytail,
Ohio Players,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eddi Front,
Radiopuhelimet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Toni Rubio,
One Last Wish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pere Ubu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soulsonic Force,
Peter & Gordon,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Wire,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
Kenny Larkin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stetsasonic,
Metal Thangz,
Godley & Creme,
The Five Americans,
Accadde A,
Suburban Knight,
U.S. Maple,
E-Dancer,
Robert Görl,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Rapeman,
Terry Callier,
Isaac Hayes,
Tubeway Army,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Bourne,
Icehouse,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Massinfluence,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
DNA,
David Axelrod,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
David McCallum,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.