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 South Africa and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moss Icon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed,
Ronnie Foster,
Hot Snakes,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Rosa Yemen,
John Lydon,
Trumans Water,
John Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rod Modell,
Gang of Four,
Davy DMX,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
Pole,
David McCallum,
T.S.O.L.,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
Adolescents,
Banda Bassotti,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aswad,
the Swans,
Main Source,
Gang Starr,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sandy B,
The Techniques,
Donny Hathaway,
The Young Rascals,
Kas Product,
Icehouse,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
Wally Richardson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nas,
The Victims,
Bluetip,
AZ,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tears for Fears,
The Misunderstood,
Black Pus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scratch Acid,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.