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 Algeria and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Happenings to the jazz 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Suicide,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
Rites of Spring,
Gong,
Pulsallama,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maleditus Sound,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Scratch Acid,
Yusef Lateef,
Franke,
The Grass Roots,
The Barracudas,
Saccharine Trust,
Public Enemy,
Babytalk,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Nas,
Scan 7,
FM Einheit,
Juan Atkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
Colin Newman,
Lakeside,
DNA,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
Derrick Morgan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Aural Exciters,
Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Durutti Column,
The Evens,
The Smiths,
Wings,
Dead Boys,
Quando Quango,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Index,
Alton Ellis,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Man Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Steve Hackett,
H. Thieme,
Sex Pistols,
Peter & Gordon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.