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 Tunisia 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 FM Einheit to the rap 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
The Trojans,
ABBA,
Royal Trux,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül II,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gories,
Todd Terry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jawbox,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül,
Man Parrish,
Al Stewart,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
MDC,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
Kevin Saunderson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tom Boy,
Rosa Yemen,
Graham Central Station,
James White and The Blacks,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Marine Girls,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
Sun Ra,
Visage,
Grey Daturas,
China Crisis,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Gang Starr,
Jimmy McGriff,
Metal Thangz,
Altered Images,
Pole,
Ronan,
Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
The Velvet Underground,
Arab on Radar,
World's Most,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
Rekid,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.