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 Cape Verde and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Harry Pussy to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Schoolly D,
Spandau Ballet,
The Offenders,
Soulsonic Force,
Sun Ra,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
X-101,
Pantaleimon,
Sixth Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
the Fania All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fort Wilson Riot,
James White and The Blacks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sex Pistols,
Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Chrome,
Stetsasonic,
Grauzone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
R.M.O.,
Ultra Naté,
Curtis Mayfield,
L. Decosne,
Soul II Soul,
The Residents,
Altered Images,
The Cramps,
Mandrill,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
The Remains,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
The Golliwogs,
Soft Cell,
Oneida,
MDC,
The J.B.'s,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pole,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Moon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Outsiders,
David Axelrod,
Eddi Front,
Pagans,
Camouflage,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.