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 Haiti and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Basic Channel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster 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?
Q and Not U,
Magma,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pole,
the Normal,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Todd Rundgren,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Standells,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Mad Mike,
The Birthday Party,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Dolphy,
Swell Maps,
MDC,
Inner City,
Wolf Eyes,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers,
Intrusion,
The Walker Brothers,
Rod Modell,
Davy DMX,
Eric B and Rakim,
Outsiders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Thompson Twins,
Guru Guru,
Mo-Dettes,
The Skatalites,
Black Pus,
June of 44,
Curtis Mayfield,
Supertramp,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
Lindisfarne,
Alton Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mojo Men,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cymande,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.