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 Afghanistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Funkadelic to the punk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
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,
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Con Funk Shun,
Excepter,
Marmalade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fear,
Magma,
Deepchord,
The American Breed,
Robert Görl,
Glenn Branca,
Funkadelic,
Scrapy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minnie Riperton,
Donny Hathaway,
Hoover,
Roxy Music,
The Toasters,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
The Sound,
Gong,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
Al Stewart,
Duran Duran,
Black Pus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sugar Minott,
X-Ray Spex,
Ohio Players,
Oblivians,
Stereo Dub,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
ABBA,
Organ,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronnie Foster,
Silicon Teens,
Kaleidoscope,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Electric Prunes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.