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 East Timor and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 The Slackers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Matthew Bourne,
Barrington Levy,
John Coltrane,
The Music Machine,
AZ,
Fatback Band,
Underground Resistance,
X-Ray Spex,
Rekid,
the Sonics,
John Foxx,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Boogie Down Productions,
Franke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
EPMD,
Harry Pussy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masters at Work,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spoonie Gee,
The Zeros,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sun City Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joyce Sims,
The Mojo Men,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
The Blackbyrds,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
Cluster,
Gang of Four,
Cal Tjader,
Trumans Water,
Scan 7,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crash Course in Science,
John Holt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deadbeat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Section 25,
The Red Krayola,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.