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 Zambia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 PIL to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
FM Einheit,
Public Enemy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Cheater Slicks,
Joey Negro,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Trojans,
Marc Almond,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cymande,
The Cowsills,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mission of Burma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
Crime,
Jawbox,
Ten City,
Slave,
Bluetip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Make Up,
Rotary Connection,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Associates,
Max Romeo,
Derrick Morgan,
K-Klass,
Monks,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
OOIOO,
UT,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sonics,
Connie Case,
MC5,
Bobby Byrd,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rapeman,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rakim,
DJ Style,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.