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 Finland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Outsiders to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funkadelic,
Sam Rivers,
Marmalade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Newcleus,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
Circle Jerks,
R.M.O.,
CMW,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Almond,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swell Maps,
Skarface,
Ice-T,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Germs,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
Eric Dolphy,
Second Layer,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Goldenarms,
The Motions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
The New Christs,
The Fugs,
Jeff Mills,
Andrew Hill,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
The Blackbyrds,
La Düsseldorf,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
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.