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 St Lucia and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Moby Grape 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Gap Band,
Alphaville,
Heaven 17,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marshall Jefferson,
Icehouse,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Juan Atkins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Josef K,
The Mojo Men,
Anthony Braxton,
Bad Manners,
Peter & Gordon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Model 500,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
Nico,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Tremeloes,
Drexciya,
Robert Wyatt,
Mission of Burma,
Slave,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
R.M.O.,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
The Durutti Column,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Theoretical Girls,
Kurtis Blow,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.