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 Albania and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Doors to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp 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?
Skriet,
Derrick May,
the Fania All-Stars,
Josef K,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Animal Collective,
The Knickerbockers,
Suburban Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
Electric Prunes,
JFA,
Archie Shepp,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
Piero Umiliani,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stereo Dub,
Alison Limerick,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dennis Brown,
Aswad,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Quantec,
The Associates,
The Fall,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
48th St. Collective,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Public Enemy,
The Mojo Men,
Joensuu 1685,
Brass Construction,
Pylon,
Cameo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Derrick Morgan,
Bronski Beat,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Duran Duran,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Robert Hood,
X-101,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultimate Spinach,
World's Most,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris & Cosey,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.