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 Uzbekistan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Surgeon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fear,
The Beau Brummels,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Theoretical Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Crispian St. Peters,
CMW,
Desert Stars,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
Flash Fearless,
Underground Resistance,
Barrington Levy,
Derrick Morgan,
Quantec,
Television,
Dawn Penn,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
The Birthday Party,
Erykah Badu,
Duran Duran,
Wolf Eyes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Almond,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol,
KRS-One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Warsaw,
Sugar Minott,
Gregory Isaacs,
Davy DMX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eurythmics,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Byrd,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cymande,
Piero Umiliani,
Dead Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Heaven 17,
The Cramps,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.