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 Pakistan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ornette Coleman to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Masters at Work,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
The Busters,
JFA,
Stereo Dub,
MDC,
Depeche Mode,
Peter and Kerry,
Subhumans,
Blancmange,
Todd Terry,
X-Ray Spex,
The Music Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Accadde A,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wally Richardson,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Procol Harum,
Lalann,
Warsaw,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
DJ Style,
Kas Product,
CMW,
Shuggie Otis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
a-ha,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
The Five Americans,
Excepter,
the Human League,
Harry Pussy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Simply Red,
Thee Headcoats,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dawn Penn,
The Pretty Things,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Normal,
Bill Wells,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.