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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Misunderstood to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Adolescents,
La Düsseldorf,
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Technova,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper,
Lightning Bolt,
Flamin' Groovies,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang Starr,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Guru Guru,
Magma,
The Barracudas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minny Pops,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cowsills,
Leonard Cohen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Metal Thangz,
Joy Division,
Erykah Badu,
Q and Not U,
Stereo Dub,
Swans,
kango's stein massive,
Clear Light,
MC5,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Wyatt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Siglo XX,
The Grass Roots,
Anthony Braxton,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Charles Mingus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lungfish,
Saccharine Trust,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.