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 Costa Rica and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deadbeat to the techno 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Bush Tetras,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mark Hollis,
The Blues Magoos,
Davy DMX,
The Gun Club,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terry Callier,
Danielle Patucci,
Sam Rivers,
Grauzone,
Lakeside,
Echospace,
Eric Copeland,
Wally Richardson,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
Gabor Szabo,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fatback Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Hashim,
Audionom,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
The Residents,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radio Birdman,
Peter and Kerry,
Wire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stetsasonic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Minutemen,
Von Mondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Procol Harum,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Sherman,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Reagan Youth,
Susan Cadogan,
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Cale,
Roxette,
New Age Steppers,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.