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 the UAE and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Hot Snakes,
Godley & Creme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Junior Murvin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vainqueur,
Quantec,
Anakelly,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
Bob Dylan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
David McCallum,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Ohio Players,
Deepchord,
Skriet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kayak,
Cluster,
Susan Cadogan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Invisible,
Cheater Slicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
D'Angelo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
Liliput,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
Royal Trux,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eli Mardock,
U.S. Maple,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Sam Rivers,
Model 500,
Basic Channel,
Ludus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Byron Stingily,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Nirvana,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.