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 Fiji and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Litter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Flipper,
the Association,
The Knickerbockers,
The Associates,
the Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Crash Course in Science,
Kurtis Blow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Easy Going,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül,
Freddie Wadling,
Interpol,
Pulsallama,
The Barracudas,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
Ituana,
Cecil Taylor,
Spoonie Gee,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Ultravox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Red Krayola,
Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Section 25,
Scott Walker,
Bad Manners,
Faraquet,
Eli Mardock,
Grauzone,
Byron Stingily,
Sandy B,
Lungfish,
Peter & Gordon,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gories,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Babytalk,
Sam Rivers,
R.M.O.,
The Star Department,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.