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 Taiwan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Dorothy Ashby to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Flipper,
Jacques Brel,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pagans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonic Youth,
Hashim,
Vladislav Delay,
Brass Construction,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roger Hodgson,
Juan Atkins,
JFA,
Archie Shepp,
Skarface,
The Misunderstood,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Swans,
Grauzone,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
FM Einheit,
Peter and Kerry,
Wally Richardson,
Fluxion,
Outsiders,
John Lydon,
Cybotron,
Talk Talk,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Frankie Knuckles,
KRS-One,
Idris Muhammad,
Bob Dylan,
Brand Nubian,
Newcleus,
Oneida,
Aswad,
Hardrive,
The Standells,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.