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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Nas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Cramps,
Cymande,
Alphaville,
Procol Harum,
Oblivians,
Donny Hathaway,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Brass Construction,
The Dave Clark Five,
New York Dolls,
Crime,
Can,
Max Romeo,
Bauhaus,
Groovy Waters,
The Birthday Party,
Don Cherry,
Pantytec,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dirtbombs,
Todd Rundgren,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soulsonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Q and Not U,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
Aural Exciters,
Wasted Youth,
Animal Collective,
The Toasters,
Tomorrow,
Junior Murvin,
June Days,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Magma,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
The Tremeloes,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Divine Comedy,
Quantec,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
DNA,
Dennis Brown,
Absolute Body Control,
Inner City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Knickerbockers,
Motorama,
Nas,
Scan 7,
Saccharine Trust,
The Pretty Things,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.