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 Malawi and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Doobie Brothers to the grime 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Lungfish,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
Lakeside,
Wasted Youth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blake Baxter,
Kenny Larkin,
Dual Sessions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bizarre Inc.,
kango's stein massive,
Arthur Verocai,
Erasure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nico,
Aloha Tigers,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Talk Talk,
June Days,
Cybotron,
Harry Pussy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
Gong,
The Evens,
Maurizio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Audionom,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Jawbox,
A Certain Ratio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Fraelich,
Pantaleimon,
Newcleus,
the Human League,
Loose Ends,
Deakin,
Saccharine Trust,
Minnie Riperton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
The Blackbyrds,
a-ha,
Suicide,
Scratch Acid,
Matthew Bourne,
Urselle,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.