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 Dominican Republic and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Starr to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brick,
Circle Jerks,
Minor Threat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mo-Dettes,
Television Personalities,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cowsills,
KRS-One,
John Holt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gap Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sam Rivers,
Severed Heads,
Mad Mike,
Donald Byrd,
Blancmange,
Erykah Badu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Associates,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sparks,
Maleditus Sound,
Drexciya,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
The Gladiators,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soft Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sound,
Basic Channel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Inner City,
Ornette Coleman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arthur Verocai,
Agent Orange,
Mark Hollis,
Zero Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
The Cramps,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Todd Terry,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.