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 Paraguay and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Dirtbombs to the electroclash 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Byron Stingily,
Bizarre Inc.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Martian,
Desert Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Godley & Creme,
Gichy Dan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Groovy Waters,
Cheater Slicks,
Kerri Chandler,
Juan Atkins,
Funky Four + One,
Lakeside,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
FM Einheit,
The J.B.'s,
Junior Murvin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
the Human League,
Television,
Slick Rick,
Ultravox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Carl Craig,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Donald Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Motions,
The Young Rascals,
Graham Central Station,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gang Starr,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lungfish,
Fatback Band,
Khruangbin,
Quando Quango,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.